What A Beautiful Mess
by somebody101
Summary: It's been six months, only when Nick's first case is a 419 at Butterfield Academy how will he handle it while still trying to fully overcome his past, and the situation grows dangerous? Sequel to 'Crimson Puddles.'
1. A Long Night

**What A Beautiful Mess

* * *

**

He took a deep breath as he sat down in the break room. It had been six months since he had been released from the hospital, and he was finally going to go into the field for a full case. He'd been stuck in the lab for almost a month, only being allowed out to help process for an hour or two at most before he'd been sent back to run tests, and help process evidence for any cases where people needed help.

Even though it was over a hundred degrees outside he wore a long-sleeved button up shirt. Nick was glad no one bothered to call him on it, and not a single person had seen his arms, legs, or chest since he'd been released. It was hard enough for him to see the scars that still remained, but he was glad that there were only a few that hadn't fully healed.

Every once in a while he still had to use his crutches, and on especially bad days he'd even haul out his wheelchair when his leg hurt too much to walk on. His arm was doing better, but he had forced himself to become proficient writing with his left hand in order to keep filling out reports when his right arm would start aching.

"You're gonna wear out the armrest if you keep tapping your fingers like that, buddy." Warrick smiled before sitting down on the couch across from Nick.

"Huh?" Nick's eyes looked down to his left hand, and sure enough they were still steadily tapping the armrest of the couch.

"I take it you're nervous."

"You have no idea. I mean- I want out of the lab, but… I'm scared. I mean the last real crime scene I processed ended with me falling through a trap door and into a freaking hole."

"You'll be fine, bro, besides one of us will be nearby."

"With my luck it doesn't really matter. Catherine was right there, and I still fell. There wasn't anything she could've done to stop it."

Warrick was about to respond when he saw the saddened look on his friend's face, but was stopped when Sara and Greg came in, followed shortly by Catherine. When he looked back at Nick he saw the frown and the sad face gone, replaced with the usual cheerful expression he knew so well.

"Alright, assignments- Sara, you and Greg got a missing person in Henderson, Paul is already out there. Warrick, Nick, and Catherine, you're with me on a 419 at Butterfield Academy."

Grissom waited until everyone had left the room, except for Nick. Just as the younger CSI made to walk past him, he gently placed his hand on Nick's left shoulder. "Listen, Nick, if you get tired, if it's too much- don't be afraid to say so. No one will think any less of you. I just don't want you to push yourself too hard too soon."

"Thanks, Griss, but I'll be ok. I mean I'm still going in for some physical therapy sessions, but I _can_ handle this. You do trust me, right?"

"Yeah, of course I do, Nick. I'm just worried about you."

"I know. I'll be ok- really."

* * *

Minutes later they were all seated in a Denali, making their way past the brilliant lights of the strip. Grissom was driving, while Catherine sat next to him. Warrick was sitting by Nick, trying his best not to stare. The look he had seen on his friend's face earlier was making him worry. No one spoke as they stared out the window.

"This body- who found it?" Nick asked as his eyes stared up at the dark, cloudy sky.

"Don't know, we'll have to ask Brass when we get out there." Grissom answered.

"Brass? I thought he was on vacation with Annie."

"He was, until McKeen let Ecklie know that we're short on detectives, with Sofia and Vartann being out on sick leave." This time it was Catherine who answered.

"At least it's not Cavaliere." Nick smiled briefly, and Warrick chuckled lightly.

"I'm glad you're back, Buddy."

"It's good to be back and to know I won't have to be in the lab all night."

It wasn't long before they fell back into a comfortable silence, listening only to the music playing cheerily over the radio. After a few more minutes Grissom turned onto a different road, and it wasn't long before they saw the flashing lights of squad cars waiting for them in front of the large school building. They exited the vehicle, quickly grabbing their kits. Nick moved as quickly as he could, trying his hardest to keep up.

He quickly hurried to follow them to the scene, and froze when he saw the massive crowds of people swarming the hallways. Police officers were hastily trying to maneuver the people around, so that no evidence could be contaminated. The entire scene was in chaos, and Nick could feel his heart beating faster at the sight of so many people.

"Where's the body?" he heard Catherine yell over the commotion.

Then Brass was there. Officers were trying to clear a path for all of them. "Second floor janitor's closet. The head custodian found the body and started screaming- interrupted a big basketball game. David is already up there- he'll be better at informing you about the victim."

Warrick, Grissom, and Catherine had plowed further along through the crowd, but Nick was finding it hard to move. He hadn't been around this many people in months, and it was unsettling. Nervousness and the beginning of what he hoped wasn't going to be a full out panic attack were beginning to take over his mind. It was getting harder to breathe, and the struggle to keep his eyes open and focused was a battle he was quicklylosing.

Everything was starting to get fuzzy. People were everywhere, complete strangers. Anyone of them could be a psychotic killer who planned on making him their next victim. He was beyond paranoid, but his mind was too blurred to even comprehend what was really happening. Then he felt the gentle hands on his arms. At first he wanted to scream, but then he felt the smooth, soft skin of a familiar hand rest lightly on his cheek.

The sounds of the large crowd began to fade, and he found it a bit easier to focus. A deep voice that he distantly recognized was counting off breaths. He found himself trying hard to breathe in rhythm to the slow steady breaths that were obviously being exaggerated so he could hear them. Several minutes later he closed his eyes tightly before letting them open again.

Nick took in the sight of Catherine and Warrick kneeling beside him. Sweat fell along his face and he took a few more deep breaths set to match Warrick's. The hand on his face belonged to Catherine, and it was calming.

"It's okay, Nick. You're fine." Catherine whispered. They were all gathered on the floor in an empty hallway, and Nick let out a loud sigh of relief knowing that only these two had seen his panic attack. He was also relieved that they had shown up as quickly as they had.

"You gonna be okay, buddy?" Warrick spoke up, finally allowing himself to breathe normally since Nick had clearly calmed down.

"I-I'll be fi- I'll be okay." The word 'fine' was one he had used too much. To him the very word was a lie. It was a word people would only use when they wanted to be left alone, and that was something he knew, without a doubt, that he didn't want.

"Whenever you're ready, Nick. Just take your time." Catherine answered, her hand still lingering on his cheek.

"I… I think I'm ready now." Warrick gave him a reassuring smile, and Catherine let her hand fall from his cheek and onto his left shoulder giving him a reassuring squeeze. Warrick helped him up, and they made their way up a flight of stairs.

While Nick hated being watched over he was grateful that both Catherine and Warrick were paying a bit closer attention to him as they climbed. His leg hurt a bit with each step, but it was pain he had learned to handle. He knew he didn't have to worry about falling. With Catherine in front and Warrick behind him he knew they'd never let him fall. It was a serious relief. Neither man noticed as Catherine hurriedly wiped and rubbed at her nose with a handkerchief.

Once they were on the second floor they passed through a few hallways when they saw Grissom standing in a hallway with a few police officers. They watched as he checked his watch and tapped his foot looking at the nearby door and the stairs beyond.

"Gil, over here. Sorry, but I tripped, and hit my nose. Nick and Warrick helped me to get it to stop bleeding." She turned and shot a smile to Nick and Warrick before turning back to Grissom.

"Oh- are you okay?" Grissom questioned, not fully believing her story. Normally, He would have called her on it, but he knew if she was lying that there had to be a reason for it. And, if his gut was right the reason was most likely linked to Nick.

"Yeah, Nick got some wet paper towels, and really took care of everything. It's a bit sore, but knowing that it's not bleeding is a good feeling."

It seemed to satisfy Grissom and he waved them into the room where the officers were standing guard. It was larger than most custodial rooms, but when they saw the desk at the far end and various shelves full of supplies it made sense.

"Whose office is this?" Nick asked, hoping his voice sounded normal. If it was a bit uneven or nervous, Grissom didn't say anything about it.

"Janise DeLano, one of the custodians here. Gerald Finch, the head custodian here, told me there is an office like this on every floor. Numerous people have keys to this room, and we don't even know if the door was locked." Grissom said before he turned back to the body of a ten-year old boy lying on the concrete floor.

* * *

An hour laterNick and Catherine were alone. Grissom and Warrick had gone off to begin asking questions to a few people who might know something. They processed quickly, both working around each other as if they had been working together for the past six months.

"Thanks, Catherine."

She didn't need to ask what he was talking about. "It was nothing, Nick. I figured you wouldn't want Grissom to know. I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

"I know- it's just that you shouldn't have to lie for me."

"Nick- don't sweat it okay? I know it's normal, I also know that Grissom would probably do, or say, something stupid. Maybe even both. I figured I'd save him from getting his foot in his mouth, and from you getting babied."

"I appreciate it." He smiled at her before turning and going back to processing the scene. "More than you could ever know." He whispered under his breath. After biting his lip he made himself focus on the scene. Four hours into processing he switched so he was writing his notes with his left hand. It had taken a lot of time, but after a few weeks of effort he had become proficient writing with his left hand when his right arm couldn't take anymore. Though it was a bit harder to read, and took a bit longer to write, he could last as long as the others when it came to taking notes and filling out reports.

His right arm ached, and he knew that once he got home he'd be alternating cooling and heating pads for at least two hours before it would settle enough to allow him to sleep peacefully. He thought about taking a few sleeping pills and only alternating the pads for a single hour, but the thought of taking those pills was worse than losing an hour of sleep.

* * *

Nick was exhausted, but he knew the shift wasn't over yet. They had spent almost five hours at the scene, with little to show for it. All they had left to do was process the remaining evidence and wait for test results. He knew he could at least look forward to a break when they got back to the lab. A few minutes of sitting back would be heaven for his leg.

It was something he utterly hated. He despised having to think about his arm and leg when he made decisions. He despised the fact that his body was still so worn down months after the injuries had been inflicted. The memory of being able to go an entire double shift without a single break was something he wished he could do again. The fact that no one would even think of letting him pull a double was comforting, and he knew he'd be guaranteed to get off on time. At the same time it made him feel guilty. If the others were forced to pull a double on the case he'd still have to go home, and leave them shorthanded.

Though, with the little evidence they had found it was unlikely that anything major would be found that night from the various test results. Catherine had immediately gone to her locker to retrieve the school rostrum in hopes of identifying the child that night. Meanwhile he was grateful that Warrick had gone straight to the break room. Had he been the one to lead the way he would've felt slightly more guilty, as if he was admitting he couldn't even handle a single shift.

Of course he knew Warrick had done it to make him feel comfortable. Only he and Catherine could get away with being overprotective of him. Had it been Sara or Greg, he couldn't help but acknowledge he would've been slightly annoyed, and maybe even thought of them as condescending. It wouldn't be true, but he knew Catherine and Warrick so much more than the others. He knew how to read them, just like they could read him.

He didn't even refuse the coffee Warrick had handed it to him. "Don't worry, it's the good stuff. I found Greg's newest hiding spot."

"Ah. Thanks man." Nick smiled, and let himself fall back into the couch. His leg felt instantly relieved at the lack of weight being put on it, and he gingerly lifted it up and set it down on the coffee table. "You can turn around now, bro."

"What do ya mean?" Warrick was glad that Nick's voice was still light, and that he clearly wasn't offended. He knew how touchy Nick could be when it came down to his injuries, and he had taken a bit longer to pour his coffee so that Nick could have a few moments to get comfortable without anyone watching him.

"How long can it take you to pour a cup of coffee?"

"Come on- we both know I've got butterfingers every once in a while." He smiled, and Nick chuckled lightly before letting out a soft sigh. "It doesn't hurt much, does it?"

"Not really. Just a bit sore- no big deal."

"Alright, but, man- at least promise me you won't work yourself too hard, okay? Don't worry about taking a few minutes to just sit down and take a bit of a rest."

"I'll try not to overdo it."

"Good. You need anything just ask, okay?"

"Yeah, sure thing boss." Nick smiled and waved him over to the couch. They sat quietly for a few minutes drinking their coffee and simply relaxing. It was something Warrick had started to get used to when Nick was too tired to even talk much. So they sat in a comfortable silence, and simply relaxed.

* * *

Two hours later Nick felt like someone was slamming a hammer down on his head. The case was quickly getting to him. The autopsy had been hard, and if it hadn't been for Catherine strategically and covertly holding his hand beneath the table he knew he would've had another panic attack. He would always feel sick when he saw such a young child lying in the morgue. It broke his heart, and the only good news that Robbins had been able to give was that the boy hadn't suffered.

A chemical, probably one of the cleaning solvents, had been used to keep him unconscious. As the autopsy continued they had learned the cause of death was blunt force trauma to the boy's chest. Once they had left he had gone straight to the break room. Catherine was right on his tail, and sat with him on the couch. Her fingers ran softly through his short hair, and she offered a soft smile.

"You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah- it's just that someone killed that little boy… and we aren't anywhere remotely _close_ to finding out who did it. We have hardly any evidence… no witnesses, and the custodian that found the body has an alibi confirmed by fifteen other people."

Catherine let out a deep breath, "We'll find something Nick. Just give it time. They always make a mistake- we just have to find it."

He mustered the best smile he could manage. "I hope you're right."

"So do I." Catherine answered. She sat forward a bit and gave him a gentle hug. "You want anything to drink?"

"Nah, I'll be ok. Only an hour left anyway."

"Yeah, and unless something big comes in within the next hour we'll all be home free."

Nick felt his smile falter a bit. He wanted to rest, and lie down in his own bed. Except he didn't want to go home. He didn't want to feel like he was all alone. It had been hard adjusting to the feeling of being alone, his paranoia could run rampant, and it wouldn't be unusual if he had a panic attack from any unexplained noise. Sure he'd be home, but he definitely wouldn't be free.

An hour later he was staring at his home from just inside his front door. Than security system was turned on. Before doing anything else he walked around his home checking every room to ensure they were empty. He finally let himself groan as his leg continued to ache from the movement of just walking. The fact that he was more or less hobbling instead of walking didn't improve his mood any. With a final sigh he grabbed his hot and cold packs before heading into the bathroom to get his sleeping pills that were waiting for him on the counter.

* * *

To Be Continued…

* * *

Notes: Next chapter should be up soon. There'll be plenty of action in upcoming chapters, but I have a few issues of the story to work out first. I pretty much am only having one problem, but hopefully I'll figure out a way to work it out. Looking forward to any reviews! 


	2. Lost Dreams

**What A Beautiful Mess

* * *

**

Nick quietly shut the door behind him. By the time he saw the unexpected puddle of water on the floor it was too late. His left leg swung out from beneath him; it wasn't until his right arm slammed against the cool tile floor that he cried out in pain. Instincts kicked in and he clutched his right arm tightly, trying to fight off the waves of pain. His ankle was throbbing.

He vainly tried to crawl over to the door, but he couldn't even manage to turn the knob enough to open it. Nick gently eased himself away from the door before his left arm gave out and his exhausted body collapsed. He gingerly forced himself to roll over onto his back. His hand wiped away the few tears that had formed, only to have them replaced by new ones.

When he realized he wasn't going to be moving for a while he weakly tried to pry the lid off the bottle of sleeping pills still clenched in his hand. After a few failed tries he eventually managed to pry the top off using his teeth. Pills scattered rapidly across the floor, and he managed to grab one with his shaking fingers. Hoping it would be enough to keep him out until the pain went away he swallowed one of the pills and waited for it to kick in.

Twenty minutes, and uncountable tears, later he finally drifted off to sleep, the agony in his arm and leg fading into the darkness. His entire body was limp, and his head was turned so he was facing the wall with his mouth slightly open and eyes shut.

* * *

Shift had ended several hours ago. It had been painfully obvious that Nick had been through a rough night, and to say she was worried would have been a serious understatement of what she was feeling. Which was why she was standing on Nick's doorstep. Both his home and cell phone had gone unanswered, and her nerves were getting the best of her when no one came to the door. She knocked a few more times, and waited a few moments to see if anyone would respond.

When she was greeted with silence she used her key to open the door. The light she saw through the closed curtains of the kitchen window was a definite sign that Nick was home. Anyone else she would've accepted the possibility that they had just forgotten to turn it off. Except she knew Nick; he was beyond fastidious when it came to how he left his house. He would always check each room, turn off every light, and ensure that he knew essentially where everything was.

It was one of many idiosyncrasies Nick had formed over the past few months that she had learned about one evening while she had brought Nick dinner before driving him to the lab. Of course there was also the fact that the only time Nick would really get out anymore was if he was going with someone from the team. The sight of the exceptionally clean living room and kitchen was something else that didn't surprise her. Nick had taken to keeping things organized, remembering where they were.

It was just another thing that worried her. He wasn't supposed to have to memorize where everything in his own home was. He shouldn't be afraid that someone had broken in and was planning on hurting him. Of course he did manage to smile more often. Smiles that reached his eyes and didn't die on his lips. He would actually laugh naturally, not having to force it, and that made Catherine feel extremely more upbeat. A lot had happened over the past year, so much that she was surprised Nick had managed to overcome so many tribulations.

She also had to admit that he wasn't entirely compulsive. His keys and cell phone were placed haphazardly on the counter of his kitchen that separated it from the living room. The items on the shelves weren't obsessively arranged. They only added to the warm inviting feel of his home, and everything seemed to fit.

Catherine sighed and put her focus back on finding Nick. She looked down the hallway, and immediately knew he was in the bathroom. It was simple to deduce that from the fact that it was the only room with the door closed, and the only other room with a light on that shone from the crack beneath the dark wood. Her hand gently knocked on the wood.

"Nick, come on- I know you're in there. Is something wrong?" She paused, waiting for an answer. When she received none she went on. "Alright, I'm coming in, Nick." Her fingers wrapped around the doorknob and turned. The surprise of finding the door to be unlocked was nothing to the shock of seeing Nick lying on the floor.

"Oh God, Nick- what happened?" She rushed into the room and lifted his head from the floor. There were pills scattered all over the floor. "No- damn it, _please_… no, God Nick, please say you didn't overdose…" Her nerves were slightly calmed by the steady, rhythmic movements of Nick's chest as he breathed. She gently shook him, hoping that he had simply taken a single pill.

Except that didn't make sense either. Why would Nick just take a single pill and fall asleep in his bathroom? Too many questions were running through her head. Fear was at an all time high. Her mind told her that he had obviously taken too many pills, that he had tried to kill himself. Her heart told her that he had simply taken one, and that he wouldn't do such a thing.

In the end the groan from the man on the floor beside her was enough to make her heart win.

"Nick? Nick, what happened?" She questioned as he let out another groan. His eyes fluttered slightly.

"Wh-where am I?" His left hand cautiously moved up to rub his eyes, and he blinked a few times. He wasn't sure why he was lying on the floor, or why his head was spinning and his vision still slightly blurred.

"In your bathroom- Nick, what happened?"

"I- just give me a second… God my head hurts."

Catherine was relieved. He obviously hadn't taken too many pills, but then again something must have happened for him to be lying on the floor in his bathroom. "Come on, Nick, let's get you out of here. You wanna lie in your bed, or sit down somewhere?"

"Sofa…" Nick answered trying to fully wake up. His arm and leg still throbbed, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been the night before. Catherine wrapped his left arm around her shoulder, and helped pull him up off the floor.

They carefully made their way to the couch. Nick tried his best not to put his weight on Catherine, but it was constantly becoming more difficult. "You won't break my back, ya know." She chided with a slight chuckle. Nick sighed and gave her a grin.

"I guess it's just the chivalry my family instilled in me with since before I could even talk."

"Oh really?" She raised an eyebrow as they sat down.

Nick let himself sink back into the cushions and sigh with relief before he answered. "Yeah. They made sure I always shared my toys, that I always held the door, that I was always polite… In fact my first words were 'thank you'…"

Catherine let out a short laugh, "You know, that doesn't even surprise me."

"Yeah- said it right after my mom had given me a new toy."

She let her smile stick for a few more moments before he face turned serious. "What happened last night, Nick?"

He immediately looked away. He seemed embarrassed, and his face was a bit red and stressed. "I fell. There was water on the floor- I slipped. I couldn't get the door open, so I pried the bottle of sleeping pills open with my teeth and I took one. Figured that when I woke up the pain would have subsided at least enough for me to get back up and make it to my bed."

Catherine couldn't help but feel relieved. She also felt incredibly stupid for even thinking Nick would try to OD on pills. "It was an accident-" The words were more aimed at reassuring herself than for Nick, "I just- I saw the pills and-"

"Wait, you actually thought I had tried to- to _kill_ myself?"

The hurt look on Nick's face was enough to get her to respond immediately. "No, Nick, I-"

"I don't want to die, Catherine. I mean- I _know_ I had that gun to my chin last May, but I _never_ wanted to die. You _gotta_ believe me."

The desperate look on his face made her swear silently to herself. "Of course I believe you, even when I saw you lying there, with all those pills… Guess I just need to listen to my heart more often. It doesn't make stupid assumptions. I'm sorry, Nick. I _do_ know you'd never-"

She never finished the sentence. Nick had pulled her into a tight embrace, and she could tell he didn't want to let go. So she eased her arms around his back and returned the hug. It was a few moments before he got his breathing under control again, and could sit back against the couch.

"Here I go- just breaking up like always." He let out a nervous chuckle.

"There's nothing wrong with letting your emotions out. It's actually brave."

"Yeah- letting everyone see how weak you really are is brave." Nick shot back, disbelief completely evident in his voice.

"First, you're _not_ weak, Nick. Second, yeah it is brave. I mean letting people see how you're feeling is hard, and it's not something anyone does easily. You're laying your soul out, and that's one of the bravest things a person can do."

The look in her eyes was the sole reason he managed to believe her. The honesty and the compassion in her eyes was a look he thought could convince him of anything.

"I guess you probably need to be getting back to Lindsey." Nick looked down, not sure he wanted to face the look of reluctant acceptance on her face.

"Nick- are you sure you should be staying alone? I mean, if you fall again, what are you going to do if you don't have a sleeping pill with you? What if it's _worse_ next time?"

He stood up, and made his way to the wall so his back was turned to her. Without warning his left hand slammed into the wall. Just before he could collapse Catherine was there, holding him close. "I can't take this. I want to be normal for God's sake. This- it sucks. Why can't it just go away? It all just makes me so angry sometimes, and then I'm sad… I'm happy too, but there's just so many feelings, and they're contradicting each other- it's all one big mess."

"It'll get better Nick. You'll see. It's already getting better- I mean you got through a whole shift, and that's a big accomplishment. We're getting along, no one is fighting… And your leg and arm _are_ healing. I know it's a slow process, but you have to give it time."

"I'm trying. Just seems like it's not going fast enough, like it's taking longer than it should. Besides- I'm so tired half the time, and I can barely make it through a whole shift. It's been _six_ _months_ Catherine…"

"There's no time limit on this. You can't rush it-"

"I'm thirty five years old Cath- I feel like my life is getting away from me… like it's passing me by. I don't want that. Just- I don't know what to do to get it back again."

"Fulfill your dreams then, one by one, day by day."

"I haven't dreamed in years. I mean my life is like one big nightmare."

"Everyone has dreams Nick." She gently started massaging his shoulders, trying to calm the tensed muscles.

"Most of my dreams died decades ago." His voice was laden with sadness and regret. More than anything it sounded lost.

"What was it that you dreamt most about?"

"I- I wanted to meet someone that I could fall in love with. Someone I could love back with all my heart. We'd move into our own house, have kids… I'd see myself holding my very own baby in my arms just after birth. Those little brown eyes capturing my heart completely. I'd teach em how to play catch- to ride a bike…" Nick paused, taking a few unsteady breaths, "Then I'd see myself cheering during graduation… I'd dream about giving away my own daughter, or watching my own son marry the perfect girl for him."

"That dream doesn't have to die Nick."

"It's already dead."

"Why?" Her voice was soft, gentle, but also appalled.

"For one- I can't even protect myself. How in the hell am I supposed to protect a child? It doesn't help that the only woman I've gone out with, and didn't treat me like an object, died. I was so desperate in college to just be close to people that I'd let them do anything to me, or with me. I _never_ said no. Didn't matter how much it hurt- physically or emotionally… I'd let it happen. No one wanted to have a normal relationship with me, so I took what contact I could get. After a while I decided I didn't deserve a relationship with someone who actually loved me. Then Kristy changed everything-" He put his head into his hands and let out a sob, "She actually cared about _me_. She gave me something I'd never felt before. Then I lost her."

"Nick, you have to realize just what a _great_ guy you really are. Any woman would be lucky to have a guy like you, and I _know_ you'd make a wonderful father."

"Yeah right." His tone was sarcastic, bitter, but worst of all for Catherine it was laced with despair. The hopelessness was something she had rarely seen in Nick, but at the moment it was right there, just taunting her.

"I'm serious Nick- look at you and Lindsey… you saved her life. You took two bullets, and you offered _everything_ you could to save her. Even if you hadn't saved her, even if she had been kidnapped…" She had to stop. The thought of losing her daughter was too much, and it took a few moments to recollect herself. "Nick, the best a parent can do is to try their best… to love their kid with every single bit of their heart. You can do that- better than anyone else I know. You would be the best dad a child could ask for. You'd be that dad because, no matter what, you'd love them with everything you've got. Because you'd do _anything_ for them."

"It wouldn't be enough. Even if it was enough- I don't deserve it. Not after everything I've done. I- what kind of person loses their virginity when they're only nine?" Tears were filling his eyes, but they wouldn't fall. "What kind of person lets people use them, treat them like dirt?"

"Nick-" Catherine tried, but she was ­­stunned.

"It's… It's okay if you want to leave." He clamped his eyes shut, and tried to say something more. Fear that his voice might crack and he might break down kept him silent except for his unsteady gasps for air and the occasional sob.

"W-why would I leave? No- why would _you_ think I'd leave?"

"Everyone else does."

"Who's everyone else?"

"People I worked in Dallas with. 'Friends' in college… Who can blame em though? My own family is ashamed of my 'relationships' they refuse to even talk about it. And they forbid me to even mention it to them. Maybe I'm just fooling myself… I don't know why I try to convince myself that I'm at best a decent person. Seems like everyone out there knows what I really am."

"Do you trust me Nick?" She started, her resolve deepening and her tone as dead serious as she could make it.

"Y-yeah…" His voice was shaky, but Catherine could tell he wasn't lying.

"Would I ever lie to you, Nick?"

"I don't know… N-no…"

"Then listen to me, Nick- you _are_ an amazing person. I can't tell you how lucky I feel to know that _you're_ my friend. I'll never understand how so many people can miss just how wonderful you are. Sure- you've made some bad choices, but that doesn't make you a bad person. Everyone makes mistakes, I know- I make plenty of em. But Nick- that's just what they are… _mistakes_."

She was about to say something more when they sat for a few minutes in silence. He made no signs of moving, and he still wouldn't bring himself to look at her. That was why when he turned around and pulled her into a tight hug she couldn't help but feel surprised.

Nick held onto her as if he let go he might drown. "Thank you. _Thank you so much Catherine_. I- you have no idea how you've helped… God- thank you." He couldn't help but allow himself to smile weakly. _I don't know how you do it, but you just know how to make me believe in myself. You've given me something I haven't felt in a long time._

"Come on, let's go."

"G-go where?" Nick questioned, sitting back to face her.

"We're going to my house. You can see Lindsey this afternoon, and stay in the guest room."

"Catherine?"

"Yeah, Nick?"

"W-why are you doing this?"

"Because you're my friend." She sighed, "I care about you, Nick. Everyone on the team cares about you. You're a good guy, you just gotta stop punishing yourself. You don't have to carry the weight of your problems all by yourself."

* * *

Half an hour later they were in her living room. Nick had taken a seat on the couch, while Catherine had gone to get them some drinks. She quickly reached past the two remaining beers, and instead pulled two bottles of water out of the fridge. They sat in silence for a while. Neither was uncomfortable, but they didn't quite know what they were doing.

"I guess it's pretty obvious that neither of us are all that tired." Nick spoke, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, guess so." She wanted Nick to lead the conversation. She wanted to know that he was going to be okay.

"You up for a walk? Nothing strenuous or anything- just… there's a park a few blocks from here." Catherine smiled slightly when she noticed he seemed embarrassed.

"I'd love to." She refrained from adding a question on how he was doing. _He wouldn't have asked to go for a walk if he didn't think he could handle it. Besides I'll be right next to him if he needs help._

A few minutes later they were walking beneath a sea of green leaves. Only a few people were scattered around the park as they walked. Catherine had subtly made sure she was to Nick's left, and had linked her right arm with his left. As they walked she noticed Nick seemed to be leaning slightly more towards her, and she simply kept walking with him, letting him set the pace.

She found herself stealing glances at him every few moments, taking in the calm relaxed look on his face. It was one of many sides she had seen of Nick, and it was a look she wasn't sure she would ever get tired of. She shot another furtive look at him when she noticed he was looking at her. He immediately looked away, and Catherine could swear she had seen a faint blush on his face. Any other time she would've teased him. Except she couldn't help but get the feeling that she was blushing slightly as well.

* * *

To Be Continued…

* * *

Notes: Still sorting out some issues with the plot, but the next chapter should be written and posted by this upcoming weekend. Thanks for all the reviews, and hope you enjoy this chapter. I look forward to reading your comments, and any suggestions that you may have.

* * *


	3. One of a Kind

**What A Beautiful Mess

* * *

**

Catherine smiled. She was still sitting by Nick's temporary bed in her guestroom. His embarrassment had been obvious, but she knew he was much more relaxed knowing a friend was nearby. It was why she had offered to sit, and wait for him to fall asleep. His face seemed so much more relaxed than she really remembered seeing it in a long time.

If that wasn't enough to make her smile nothing would ever be enough.

With a soft sigh she stood up, hoping he would be able to rest without nightmares. There was no doubt in her mind that she would do anything for Nick. After all, the man had saved Lindsay. It would be impossible to ever repay him, but she would try.

As she made her way into her own bedroom she couldn't help but wonder what other dreams Nick had given up on. The truth was that he would make an incredible father, and that any woman would be lucky to have him. There wasn't a man alive, perhaps aside from Warrick, that she knew who would risk his life, like Nick had, all for a friend's daughter. It was part of what made her want to do anything for him. The other part was a blend of his kind friendliness, the fact that no matter how bad the hell he went through was he would never really give up, and that she knew he deserved so much more than he got.

* * *

"_Thank you so much for doing this Nicky- I owe you one." Catherine smiled as she rushed back into her bedroom for a pair of earrings. It had been months since she had even been out for a casual dinner, let alone a date. She missed the caring touch of another person, and though she loved spending time with Lindsay she knew she needed to do this. That was why she had called Nick to babysit._

"_It's no problem- really. Now get going- you don't want to be late."_

_She had smiled kissed Lindsay, and said a brief goodbye and one final thank you to Nick before she was out the door. She had enjoyed the candlelight dinner. The date had gone well enough until they had been walking out of the restaurant and he had been called by his boss. They had shared a quick kiss goodnight before she reluctantly drove herself home._

_With a sigh she walked in the front door, and dropped her purse unceremoniously to the floor while taking off her high heels._

"_I- uh, I'd ask how it went, but you don't seem too thrilled."_

"_His boss called after we ate. He took off, and I came home." She smiled briefly. "How was she? Hope she didn't give you too hard a time."_

"_Not at all- she was an angel."_

"_Wow- I should get you to babysit more often."_

"_I'm only a phone call away- anytime… unless I'm working." He flashed a broad smile at her, "Well, I guess I ought to get going." She nodded as he made his way to the front door and slipped his shoes and coat on._

"_Thanks again, Nicky."_

"_I'll see you next shift."_

_Nick nodded, and smiled before opening the front door and he nearly ran straight into Eddie. Catherine froze. Nick paused and leaned slightly closer to the man._

"_Get out of here Eddie." The words had come from Nick, just before Catherine had gotten them out._

"_Get the hell out of my way you damn cowboy."_

"_You're drunk- I'm not letting you anywhere near them. Now go."_

_Catherine had never heard Nick's voice go so low. There was a definite edge to his voice, and she had a feeling it could make most people back away from him. She definitely wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of the glare he was shooting right at her ex-husband._

"_I'll see whoever the damn hell I want to see. Now back off asshole, and let me into my house if you don't want to get hurt."_

_He moved to get around Nick, but the young Texan stood his ground. "Get the hell out of here now Eddie. Come back when you're sober. Better yet- don't come back at all."_

"_You know- maybe I don't need to see them right now, I have something else to do." _

_Nick had never seen the fist flying towards his gut. He had been caught off guard, and before Catherine could do anything Eddie had pulled him out of the doorway and into the yard._

"_Nicky! Eddie, stop it! Leave him alone!" She didn't know what to do as the man started to kick Nick who was lying on the ground._

"_Catherine- get inside now, and grab Lindsay!" His words had pulled her out of her daze and she raced back inside grabbing her cell phone before locking herself in Lindsay's bedroom. Her daughter was trembling slightly, and she wasted no time in pulling her into a hug. She then went to the window and peered through the blinds just in time to see Nick grab one of Eddie's legs and send him tumbling backwards. Her ex got a lucky jab and hit Nick somewhere in the face. She couldn't see him very well from where she was standing._

_Then Nick was kneeling on Eddie's back, pinning the man's arms to his side with his legs, and rendering Eddie immobile. She watched as Nick said something into Eddie's ear, and after a few minutes his body went limp when he stopped struggling. Her breathing was fast and erratic as she watched Nick finally stand up. Eddie picked himself off the ground and glared back at Nick once more before finally climbing into his car and driving off. Not even minutes after he had disappeared around a corner Nick had fallen back to the ground._

_Fear coursed through her, and she squeezed Lindsay's hand before tearing out of the house. She found him lying on the grass clenching his gut with one hand while the other was vainly trying to stop the blood flowing from his nose. Without a word she gently helped him back inside, and seated him on the couch._

"_I'll be fine- really. I shouldn't be sitting on your furniture either- don't want to get blood everywhere ya know."_

"_Nick, after what you just did… there's no way I'd let you just go home and not know how you were doing."_

"_I-I'm sorry."_

"_What in the hell are you apologizing for? You did the right thing- I'm the one who's sorry this happened. Just… Eddie is a complete ass, and he's worse when he's drunk."_

"_Better me than either of you two. He hasn't… gotten violent with either of you- h-has he?"_

"_No." Catherine answered, grateful that she was being honest. "He just sleeps around."_

"_Is Lindsay ok?" There was genuine concern in his voice, and she couldn't help but be caught off guard._

"_She'll be okay." She smiled weakly, and handed Nick an ice pack to place over his eye where a bruise was already forming. "Got any remedies for a nose bleed- it's already dripping onto your shirt…"_

_He quickly tried to wipe more blood off his cheek and chin, only succeeding in smearing the blood over his hand and face. He leaned his head back, "get a towel or paper towels wet, and I'll try my best not to bleed all over your couch."_

"_Alright, I'll be right back." She hurried into her kitchen and grabbed a dishtowel while turning on the sink and soaking the fabric in the cool water. Neither spoke as Nick firmly held it in place beneath his nose while using the rest of the towel to start wiping at the blood that had smeared all over the bottom half of his face. Catherine retrieved another few towels, soaking both of them as well. When she sat back down beside him she immediately started to wipe away the areas where Nick had missed._

_After a few minutes of silence she offered him a weak smile. He flashed one back, and she knew it was forced. "Are you gonna be okay? He didn't hurt you too badly- did he?"_

"_Nah- I'll be fine. Thanks, uh, I'm not really used to someone taking care of me. Except my mom and sisters, but that was years ago."

* * *

_

It had been years ago. Just like that fight had been years ago. That had been the first time anyone had done something so selfless for her and Lindsay. Nick had become one of her best friends that night. It was a position not many could ever obtain. Warrick and Grissom had taken years to be considered even as close friends. Nick had taken one night.

_He's one of a kind_.

She smiled before lying down on her bed and pulling her sheet up over her shoulders. She thought back to some of the other times the two had spent together. Times when he had lit up an entire room with his smile. Times when his laughter in the lab could erase all her pain and frustration just by lifting her spirits. Times where he was on the verge of tears and she only wished she could take away all his pain.

She shook her head before letting her head hit the pillow. With a sigh her eyes closed and she slowly drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Nick sat straight up. He was only disoriented for a few seconds before he remembered he was staying in Catherine's guestroom. His arm and leg were feeling much better and more relaxed than they had been for a while. All that greeted him was silence, and he wondered briefly what had caused him to wake up. Normally he would blame it on nightmares, except all that he had dreamed about was the team going out for breakfast after winning the softball game against the dayshift. It was also unlikely that it was due to a nightmare, because he wasn't even feeling all that hot.

Then he heard her. Though her voice was muffled he could swear Catherine was speaking. He took a deep breath, and tentatively placed his left foot on the floor. When it didn't hurt any more than was usual he allowed himself to stand, and walk slowly towards her room. He thought about knocking, just in case, but in the end he decided to just enter. After all that's what she had told him to do if he had any problems sleeping, or if he needed her for anything.

She had quieted down some by the time he had reached her door. And he found her lying, tangled up in her sheets on her back. Her head turning slowly side to side as if she was shaking her head as if in slow motion. Nick stood back, not really sure of what to do.

"Come on- Catherine… you gotta wake up." He moved closer, and gently shook her shoulder. Fear coursed through him, and he felt a pang of guilt shoot through him when he realized how he had probably made them feel so many times. _Just one more thing I need to change. I hope that it never hurt you to see me having a nightmare… and I'm sorry for putting you through so much._

They were merely thoughts; ideas that would never be spoken out loud. The truth was that Nick had learned how to act at a very young age. He had spent so much of his life convincing other people that he was okay. In the end it had become routine. Nick liked the man he acted out around others. It was his chance to pretend he was still innocent, even naïve, to make jokes, but most importantly to pretend no one had ever tried to ruin his life. It was who he wanted to be more than anything in the entire world. Who he might have been had certain events never taken place.

He gently shook her shoulder again, hoping desperately that she would wake up. Nick almost jumped out of his skin when her eyes shot open, and he was glad that she hadn't sat upright.

"Nick?"

"Are you ok?" Nick show off immediately.

"Y-yeah- I'm fine." She rubbed her eyes a bit to clear her sight. It was another few moments before she noticed how fazed Nick seemed. "How about you?"

"Huh? Wh-what do you mean?"

"Are you okay? You just look really… rattled."

Nick looked down at his hands, and let out a quiet chuckle. "Yeah- I'm fine."

Catherine had to keep from wincing at the word. It was a word that was really only used when the person saying it didn't truly mean it. She knew, there had been plenty of instances where she had used it to make others think things were okay. And, she knew Nick only used it when he was really hurting. She had heard him say those words too many times in the past.

"You can talk to me, Nick- it's okay to let people know how you feel."

"Look… I just- usually I'm the one who has the nightmares. It's weird… being on the other side, ya know? I can't believe I put you guys through all that. I- I'm so sorry…"

"Nick- you've got nothing to be sorry for. We were there because we wanted to be, for you. Yeah, seeing you have nightmares scares the hell out of me, Warrick too, but it doesn't mean we're going to let you go through it by yourself. We're your friends." Catherine smiled warmly, and Nick couldn't hold back his own smile as his rigid body visibly relaxed. She pulled him into a hug and literally felt his tense muscles slowly loosen.

* * *

Grissom stared intently at the picture he had framed and placed on his desk. It was a picture of the whole team, sitting together in the diner. Only the picture was new. They had started going at least once a week, and he had to admit that he was glad Nick had started the whole thing. While he often found himself at a loss of things to say to Nick, the man took it in stride, and the Texan had a way of goading him into talking.

That was part of why he was looking forward to informing Nick about the promotion he'd soon be receiving. They would hopefully be wrapping up the homicide at Butterfield Academy, and he hoped it would be a good way to end what he suspected would be a hard shift. He was also looking forward to the chance of letting Nick know just how much he meant to the lab, and to the team. Of course it wouldn't be a walk in the park, and he had a feeling it would take some convincing for Nick to believe he hadn't received the promotion to Lead CSI out of pity.

"Ah, go figure… knew I wouldn't be the first one here."

He looked up from his desk to see Warrick watching him from the doorway. "Nope, I had some things I wanted to think about- I think more clearly here than at my house."

"When _don't_ you think clearly?"

Warrick's disarming grin made him smile. "I'm going to tell Nick about the promotion tonight at the end of shift."

"Nice, it'll mean a lot to him. I'm glad you recommended him."

"Me too." He paused, looking at Warrick before he decided to say something more. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine- why wouldn't I be?"

"I heard Tina filed… I guess I just wanted to make sure you were okay with everything there."

"Oh…" Warrick paused, slightly surprised. "Uh- yeah, I'm fine. Shouldn't get messy or anything, ya know. Thanks, though- for, uh, asking." He shot Grissom a smile, before turning and heading for the locker room. The man always did something unexpected. He supposed it was in order to keep them on their toes, but still it just didn't quite fit. Grissom was an enigma that Warrick highly doubted anyone would ever unravel, one so complex he wondered if even Grissom himself could make sense of it.

Sara was already waiting in the break room. Greg and Paul followed Warrick in and they situated themselves around the table.

"So, I hear the Undersheriff might be looking for a new job soon. The Sheriff hasn't been too pleased with many of his decisions lately." Paul offered after a few moments of awkward silence.

"Yeah, let's hope so." Greg answered. He stifled a yawn as best as he could before wearily standing up, and starting to make some coffee.

"You okay there, Greg? Usually you're the one who's all hyped up- not me." Sara smiled before standing and moving to help him.

"Yeah, I didn't really get much sleep."

"Yeah, let me guess- you stayed up playing video games?" Warrick was answered by Greg casting him a sarcastic smile.

"Oh yeah- it was the _games_ that kept me up…"

"So, then what was it?"

"Not really sure, just couldn't fall asleep, so I pretty much just laid on my bed the whole time."

"Sounds like a bit of insomnia to me." Warrick answered, "You got my sympathies, man- I hate not being able to sleep."

"Well, aren't we the lively bunch today?" Catherine smiled from the doorway. Greg immediately glared at her while Warrick and Sara grinned.

"Oh, come on Greg, you can't be _that_ tired." Nick picked up as he moved past Catherine and took a seat next to Warrick.

"Alright- we've got a busy night ahead of us. Sara- you know what you guys have to do, so get going. Catherine, you're in the lab with me. We'll try to get some of this stuff figured out. Nick, Warrick get back to the scene, and take a look around. I'll send Catherine over after a while, all right? Now let's move."

"Sure thing boss." Nick answered quickly, as each of them got to go. He was determined to find whatever evidence they needed to solve the case. Though he tried to stop it, the images of the little boy kept coming back. A few minutes later he was waiting impatiently in the car as Warrick made another turn. He was looking forward to getting this shift past him, and hopefully getting some answers.

When the car stopped they all quickly made their way up the stairs to the front entrance. Nick couldn't help but shudder when he saw it. The previous shift they had been forced to take a side entrance to get in due to the mass of people there for the basketball game. It was his first look at the now practically empty parking lot where just six months ago he had been shot twice. His mind replayed the entire scene as if he was right there. He could clearly see Lindsay being held by a masked man. He could see himself turning partially away before lunging at the man, and taking all three of them to the ground.

Warrick stopped a few steps past Nick. He had been walking alongside his friend, allowing Nick to set the pace in order to keep from putting any more stress of his best friend. The distant, pained look in Nick's eyes was enough to let him know exactly what Nick was reliving. After successfully holding back a sigh he broke the silence. "You okay, bro?"

His voice immediately brought Nick back to reality. He flashed a weak smile, and nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. Let's get this show on the road."

Three hours later they were scouring the entire building looking for anything that might have been used to take the poor boy's life. Except the problem was that the bruise was nothing unique. There were no slight patterns, no real way of telling what shape the object was, or enough dimensions to rule out any items they found. It was just a large massive bruise that was caused by something rectangular in 2D and was at least wide enough to cover the child's entire chest. Of course that could narrow the possible weapon to any piece of wood, bar, or essentially any other myriad of objects in the school.

"I'm gonna go take a look out around the track and stadium. There's probably some storage sheds out there too."

"Alright, I'll keep looking around in here- make sure an officer is nearby though."

"Yeah I think I saw Peterson hanging around here somewhere, I'll go grab him."

"Cool, good luck."

"Yeah, let's just hope we can find _some_ evidence before it's too late." Nick answered. He wasn't stupid. The odds of them finding the murder weapon was unlikely, added to that fact they had hundreds of suspects thanks to the game in the gym. Nick hoped with all his heart that they'd be able to find just that one clue to break the case wide open.

One clue that could mean justice for an innocent child who should've been at home in his bed while his parents told him goodnight.

* * *

To Be Continued…

* * *

Notes: Sorry this took so long to update, but I hope it was worth the wait. Some action coming up in the next chapter as the plot deepens. And I'm still not sure about something, so I'll give you guys the question- I'm leaning towards starting a dating/relationship between Nick and Catherine, but I'm not sure that's a direction I want to take. It probably won't be an issue for the next few chapters, but I'd appreciate your input. And thanks for all the reviews so far!


	4. Staying Calm

**What a Beautiful Mess

* * *

**

Nick carefully made his way along the outer edge of the track looking for any possible evidence. With each passing minute it seemed as if though the entire search was just in vain, and that fact was starting to wear away at his strength. They needed to find something, anything that would even possibly lead to a break in the case.

He heard Kyle Peterson behind him, walking slowly along the track. Both their footsteps seemed to echo through the night air. It didn't help that the moon and stars were hardly visible under the glow of the city. Even with the massive lights, for the night games, on it didn't do much to illuminate the whole area. The dark trees in the background served only to remind him of the last time he had been surrounded by trees.

As if in response to the memories a shot of pain coursed through his leg, and he had to bite his lip not to cry out. It took much more effort than he had hoped to keep walking on his search, and he couldn't help but sigh with relief when the pain started to subside.

Before long he was nearing the end of the track, and was waving his flashlight along the base of the chain link fence that marked the end of the school grounds. His concentration was solely devoted to searching for even the slightest clue. His eyes traveled back and forth over the recently cut grass, and he sighed when he accepted there was nothing there either.

After a few moments of gazing around the ground just past the fence he noticed a small group of sheds in the far corner near the beginning of the bleachers. All but one of them were closed, except for a single one in the middle. His breathing hitched slightly as he moved slowly closer to the pitch black room.

He could still hear to officer's footsteps behind him, and he felt relieved that he wasn't out here alone. If one of the shed doors hadn't been wide open it would've provided much more comfort. The hairs on his neck rose, and he bit his lip to stop the shudder from being heard by Peterson. Without a word he pulled his gun free, and waved behind him for the other man to do the same. Nick's eyes never left the shed as he inched closer, hoping that it had only been carelessness behind the reason it wasn't locked like the others.

Sweat trickled down from his forehead as he drew nearer, and he could hardly remember a time when he had been more glad for the standard kevlar vest he was wearing. With a final breath he lunged around the corner.

* * *

Warrick stood up slowly and stretched his arms and back. He had been bending down dozens of times in each room as he meticulously scoured the various rooms for any possible evidence. With each room he found at least ten items that could have been used to kill the little kid, and his patience was beginning to wear thin.

The entire case was beginning to frustrate him, and he found it hard not to curse repeatedly over the lack of evidence. There were too many suspects, and far too many possible murder weapons. In the end their best chance was if some clue would fall right into their laps. Except, Warrick wasn't stupid. While he hated to even think it, he knew the odds were that the case would never be solved. That made him even angrier.

It also made him worried. He knew Nick, and there wasn't even the slightest chance that Nick would want to accept that this case couldn't be solved. The man would be more than revolted by the idea that they could do nothing for the boy. And, when they didn't even know who the kid was it made things worse.

He was close to giving up. Nick would most likely be finishing his search of the track, and would undoubtedly come back empty handed for his labors. Warrick also suspected that his best friend would be more than exhausted after four hours of constant movement.

* * *

Across the city the rest weren't having any more luck. Greg was still wiped out, and was having a hard time focusing. Sara was getting quickly worn down by the other two men's obvious lack of energy and motivation, and they had no leads.

"So- what do we really even have?" Greg barely mumbled, his eyes fighting the urge to close.

"Nothing." Sara shot back, "We have a missing thirty year old male, name is John Fisher, didn't show up to his job for two days, and didn't call anyone. No clothes in his house, no food in the fridge… I think the guy probably just- ya know, went on vacation or high tailed it out of here."

Paul just stood back and watched. Everyone had told him that Nick was the friendliest, and most outgoing of any of them. Only the man had never once spoken to him about anything other than a case. While it hurt slightly, the knowledge that Nick probably still viewed him as some type of replacement, let alone a reminder of what he went through, managed to make any resentment fade. Warrick had gone so far as to tell him that Nick was the only reason Sara had ever really become a true part of the team, and that Nick had done the same with Greg.

He still felt like the outsider, and he had been working with them for over six months. Paul was also grateful that Grissom seemed to acknowledge that there was something wrong between himself and Nick. Of course, he also suspected that the supervisor's concern was more focused on Nick being uncomfortable around the man who had been hired to fill in for him. After a few moments he stopped, shook his head, and forced himself to focus on the case. It was going to be hard enough to solve now that his energy was at an all-time low, and they had nothing to go on.

* * *

Nick nearly fell back in exhaustion when he saw the shed was empty. Equipment lined the shelves, and there was definitely no one inside the small space. A quick glance at his watch showed that he had already been scouring the track and field for a whole hour.

"Are you Nick Stokes?"

He froze. Every muscle in his body tensed as he swung around. His eyes went wide when he saw the motionless body of Officer Peterson lying over fifty yards away in the middle of the track. The realization that his named was stitched onto the black vest came too late, and he felt himself being shoved back against another shed.

His arms went up fast, but he wasn't strong enough to hold back the sudden thrust of a heavy metal object being pushed against him, just below his neck. His arms were pinned in place, his hands desperately trying to push back. Only the pain in his right arm instantly flared up, and the metal bar was starting to press even harder against him. Breathing was growing harder as the metal pushed down even harder.

Nick was gasping for breath, sweat falling faster as his strength started to waver. He let out a sharp cry, and before he could get any words out the metal was trust up against his throat, forcing his head back. The cool wood of the shed only served to bring him more pain. His face was turning bright red from the lack of air, and he could almost feel the Plexiglas walls closing in around him.

Just before everything turned back his assaulter took a quick step back. He immediately fell to his knees gasping for breath, and just as he lifted his head to see what had happened he felt the metal slam against the side of his head as if his head had been a t-ball on a post. Nick caught one last glimpse of the dirt rushing to meet him as he fell before everything did turn black.

* * *

"Hey, Grissom- I got an ID on the kid. Took longer than I hoped, but his name is Billy Meyers, parents are Jack and Lisa Meyers. I'll go call them."

"Alright, talk to them, and then get out to the crime scene to meet up with Nick and Warrick. If they have something, then call me. If not- well… keep looking, you can tell Nick there's still stuff to do here in the lab for the case if he's tired."

"Sure thing Gil, I'll keep you updated." Catherine offered him a small smile before heading off towards her office. With a sigh she firmly closed the door behind her and sat heavily in her chair before picking up her phone. She waited as it rung repeatedly.

There was no easy way to break such terrible news to people. The loss of a child should be every parent's worst fear. Catherine despised any parent who felt differently. She would lose any bit of sanity she had if she ever lost Lindsay, and the last thing she wanted was for her daughter to suffer. If she ever had to bury her own child she'd sure as hell make sure someone paid.

It was comforting knowing other people would go to great lengths to keep her daughter safe.

And the phone continued to ring, while no one answered.

"_You have reached the Meyers' household, please leave a message at the beep, and we promise to get back to you as soon as we can."_

The message was so simple. Catherine quickly hung the phone up. She was starting to feel sick to her stomach at the thought of having to break such terrible news to the child's parents. With a deep sigh she copied the number and address out of her directory, and placed it in her pocket. The very thought of Billy Meyers made her heart, and head, ache. These cases were always the worst, and it never got easier.

It never would. Catherine almost felt grateful for that matter. The pain meant she still cared, and that she was still alive and kicking. It meant she hadn't given up on life. That caused her thoughts to drift towards Nick. A man whose heart was bigger than anyone's she had ever met before. The man that would give anything to help others, and in turn had kept so little to help himself. Yet, no matter how bad things had gotten for him he had never fully given up on life either, which also worried her. He'd definitely be feeling sick over the lack of evidence on this case just as badly as anyone else would be, if not more.

With a quick sigh she rose, and grabbed her coat before heading for the door. It would probably be a full ten minutes before she got to the scene, and she was sure every minute would be spent imagining just how much Nick had suffered to help Lindsay.

* * *

Sara was beginning to find any reason for them to keep investigating. Their case had gone from cold to freezing, and they didn't have a single lead, let alone any real evidence. The man may as well have dropped off the face of the Earth for as much good as it did anyone now. All they had was what appeared to be a slight struggle in the man's living room.

It didn't help that she was getting more and more worried about Greg as they continued to pick through every corner of the house. He had never been so tired or worn down before, and even after a few cups of coffee he hadn't improved. To make things worse it was starting to get to Paul as well. Over the past six months the man still hadn't gotten used to being on the nightshift, and while he had had energy before, it seemed as if it had been used up completely in less than two hours.

* * *

"Melissa Freeman speaking, how may I help you?"

"Get ready, we're about to progress to phase three. Don't take things too fast either, we need to make sure this is done right. Now, do you still have those copies of those files."

"Of course, I've got copies of the entire nightshift's files here, plus several of the lab technicians, and a few other criminalists from the other shifts."

"Good, I'll be needing those soon enough. These guys are going to wish they never screwed with us."

"I'm with you all the way Luke, but if you take this too far… well, don't expect me to help you out, got it? Don't piss John off."

"Yeah. I got it, now get moving."

"How was phase two?"

"Poor bastard didn't stand a chance. Just knocked the cop out in the middle of the field and followed him. After all the mistakes Donovan made, at least he did something right by having them take Stokes alive. One of the easiest fights in my life, and I'm sure his friends will find him before it's too late."

* * *

Nick didn't know where he was. He had no way of knowing how long he had been unconscious. His mind screamed for him to move, but his body wouldn't listen. All he could smell was his own sweat, and what might have been oil. There was nothing to see around him except darkness, and if he hadn't been able to breathe he would've wondered if he was back underground.

He was sitting on something solid, maybe even wood, but he couldn't be sure. Memories of his latest scuffle with a man completely dressed in black. Complete with a ski mask. Nick tried desperately to tell himself that it was a common disguise for criminals, that those clothes meant nothing, and he was safe. He didn't want to think about the possibility that just maybe there was someone still out there who want him dead.

There wasn't the slightest chance that he would let himself cry. While he had fought tooth and nail to keep it from happening, each time he got hurt he fought back. Nick couldn't let himself just give up, no matter how much he wanted something to end, even if it was his own life, he couldn't do it. Death didn't scare someone who had thought he was going to die more times than he could count on one hand.

Though he would never admit it, he knew that in a way he had almost hoped for it. Every single day of his life had been spent trying to be strong, to move on, but most of all, to keep the hope that things would get better. And every time he lost all hold of that, it was harder to get even the slightest bit of it back. In the end he did it for them.

He did it for his parents, his whole family, who knew nothing of his babysitter, or of the kids he had allowed to beat him, or the multiple relationships he had, some of which had landed him in a hospital. The family that knew nothing of Amy Hendler, or Nigel Crane, and who only knew about Gordon and Donovan because he hadn't been given the chance to prevent them from being told.

Then there was the family that knew about most of it. Catherine who knew almost everything, then Warrick, his best friend, and the others. Now there was this; another notch to add to his belt to remind him of how many people had hurt him. His arms and legs ached, he was lightheaded, and it was still hard for him to breathe. He distantly wondered how long he had been sitting, and if he was going to run out of air anytime soon. It wasn't long before his eyes reluctantly closed once more.

* * *

Catherine couldn't help but hold her breath slightly as she pulled up in front of the school. Her own daughter had almost been kidnapped just a few yards from where she was parked. Nick had been shot twice in this very parking lot. _Stop. Just stop now. He's alive, and you have to let this go. I can't help anyone if I'm distracted either._

She couldn't quite place her finger on it, but something felt wrong. Every part of her mind told her she was overreacting. Only her gut was saying otherwise, and that made her nervous.

* * *

Warrick was staring to get a bit more nervous as the minutes passed. It had been two hours since Nick had gone out to check the football field, track, and stands. After another few moments he stood up, let out a sigh and stretched his arms.

_He's alright. Probably just took a bit of a break. I mean that is a lot of ground to cover, and he might have found something…_

Though it was meant to convince him, it didn't work. For one, he knew Nick would have to be suffering an incredible amount of pain to stop in the middle of processing to take a break. He also knew that if Nick had found something he would probably know.

Just before he got the chance to even start walking towards the stairs he heard footsteps. A few seconds later he saw Catherine tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. She offered him a warm smile, but he almost thought he could see a slightly worried look cross her face.

"Hey, how are things going?"

"I got nothing. Maybe Nick was a bit more lucky, but I doubt it."

"Where is he?" Now Warrick could really tell she was concerned. The tone and pitch of her voice was enough to give it away.

"He went outside to check out the track area. Thought that something might have gotten ditched out there."

"Why don't we go check and see if he's found anything."

* * *

The next time he woke up he wasn't so calm. His mind wasn't hazy, and he could distinctly feel the metal cuffs biting into his wrists that were wrapped around some type of pole behind his back. His mouth was covered with some type of tape, making it impossible for him to call out for help. The fact that he couldn't see anything in the darkness scared him even more.

As far as he knew he could be six feet underground in another box. He could be in someone's basement. _I could be anywhere…_ That thought scared him as well. Nick made it a point not to get lost. After a day of losing his mind in a glass box while not knowing anything about how he had gotten there he had always been determined to know something about where he was.

His breathing was growing more rapid, but he did his best to fight the panic. Instead he found himself trying to make some sense of his situation. He instead tried to smell the room around him once more, taking in the sickening scent of sweat mixed with oil and grease as well as what might have been wet grass. In the distance he thought he could hear crickets chirping nearby.

_The open shed… that's where I must be. The others should be able to find me here in no time. They found me before… they've never let me down. Just gotta stay calm, and wait for them. It'll be okay. Nothing is going to happen to me in here… no one is gonna hurt me. Oh God, what about Peterson? He has to be okay. This guy wanted me, not him. No, he's probably just fine._

Nick tried to relax, and to make himself as calm as possible. He knew Warrick was around and that Catherine would be arriving soon, or had already gotten there, and that they definitely wouldn't leave without him. It also helped knowing that he hadn't been seriously injured, and aside from the usual pain in his arms and legs the only other pain was coming from his neck and upper torso.

_No time to lose control. I can get through this. Just have to stay calm and focused. They won't let me down.I just have to stay calm...

* * *

_

To Be Continued…

* * *

Notes: Had a bit of writer's block towards the end of this chapter. As for my previous question, well, my answer is that it's not going to happen. It would probably be awkward, and I decided if I'm questioning it so much then it's not the right choice for this story, besides, I've come up with ideas for the ending now that fit much better. Thanks for all the comments and support, hope you enjoyed this chapter and take the time to review! Hope to have the next chapter done soon, since more pieces are beginning to fall into place.

* * *


	5. Unanswered Questions

**What a Beautiful Mess

* * *

**

"He's not here." Warrick could hear her voice rise, and felt his stomach tighten.

"Neither is Officer Peterson. Maybe they went to look around the rest of the grounds. The park is on the other side of the building. I mean the kid was only ten, so he'd still have recess… and he probably wasn't over here very much."

"Yeah. Let's go and maybe check around the playground… then again…" Catherine let her voice drift off. Her eyes darting around the field. Her entire body jumped when she heard Warrick's voice finally break through the otherwise silent night.

"NICK!" He put everything into his voice that he could, hoping it'd be loud enough for his best friend to hear, and hopefully enough to let him know to respond. He had already tried Nick's cell phone, but no one had answered. There was already a good number of officers gathered around, waving their flashlights, looking for any sign of the missing CSI.

* * *

Nick's heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he heard Warrick's voice. He wanted nothing more than to scream back. Tears still fell slowly from his eyes. It had been a result of his cell phone going off, the personalized ring telling him that it was Warrick. Though he couldn't see his wrists he was pretty sure the liquid dripping all over his hands was from the intense fight against the metal cuffs. A fight he had lost.

He wasn't about to let that discourage him though. He was going to be strong, and he'd either get himself out of the mess he was in, or he'd find a way to help his friends find him. Knowing that his arms were useless he focused on his legs. With his right foot he slowly moved it around the darkness that surrounded him until he felt his shoe hit something. From the noise it made he figured it was made of metal, and tried kicking it.

When nothing happened he kicked it again, and almost cringed when it toppled over, and resulted in a thunderous crash. Nick just barely managed to clench his eyes shut as a wave of dust swirled around the room. All he could do was listen to the silence that followed, and the heavy thumping of his own heart.

* * *

Catherine's head snapped towards the shed. A quick glance at Warrick told her that he had heard it to. "Nick! Hold on, we're coming!" She tore off down the track, her shoes slamming hard on the rough material beneath her feet. The sight of Warrick racing past her towards the sheds along the far fence made her run even faster. They could hear the officers behind them hurrying to catch up. Before she had even reached the row of sheds Warrick was pounding on the doors one by one, accompanied by two of the faster cops at the scene that had outrun her.

"Let's get these doors open, now!" Warrick bellowed, and frantically pounded on the next shed before pressing his ear to the wood.

* * *

Nick could hardly believe it when he heard the pounding coming from just a few feet in front of him. He tried to call out, to answer, but the tape muffled his voice. Not sure if it was enough for the person on the other side of what he guessed was the door to the shed he began kicking against the old floor boards, and pulling once more against his cuffs.

* * *

Warrick didn't wait for help. He could hear the muffled cries and the pounding just past the door in front of him. Nick was on the other side of the door, and he wasn't going to let a piece of wood keep him from getting to his best friend. In a single movement his leg came crashing down against the wood just below the lock, sending the door swinging back.

Seconds later he was on his knees and trying to get Nick to stop fighting against the cuffs that bound his wrists. Catherine followed right behind him, and began to wipe sweat off of his face with her handkerchief. Both were quietly whispering short phrases in the hopes that it'd help him to calm down. "Sorry, bro, there's no easy way to do this… just gotta pull off this tape."

Nick felt himself melt into Catherine's arms, and desperately wanted to hold her back. He flinched only slightly at the sting as the tape was pulled free. Once it was gone he took deeper breaths, ignoring the pain around his neck. A weak smile even played over his face as he felt the tension fade. He was safe and sound.

"Warrick, can you get those cuffs off of him?" Catherine began as she tried to wipe the blood from Nick's hands.

"I think we need cutters… looks like the locks on these are melted or something."

His eyes slowly started to close. It was like every single bit of strength in him had vanished, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to pay attention to what his friends were saying.

"Nick? Hey buddy, don't go falling asleep on me yet bro. Come on, Nick, let's get you out of this shed first…"

"Just… so tired…"Nick wasn't sure why his body had suddenly lost all strength, but he knew it was constantly getting harder to keep his eyes open. A few seconds later he lost the fight, and let his body succumb to his weariness.

"Here are some hedge clippers… they might work." One of the officers offered quietly.

"Okay, hey I want every to back up all right, let's get him as much space as we can." Catherine called out as Warrick took the offered clippers and set to work on breaking the handcuffs. A few minutes later the cuffs were finally busted open, and Warrick carefully lifted Nick in his arms. The only response from Nick was a few murmured words that no one could distinctly make out.

Warrick didn't stop until they reached the Denali he and Nick had taken to the school. He waited while Catherine hurriedly opened the back door, and helped him lie Nick down on the seat. She then quickly grabbed the first aid kit from the back and went to work cleaning his wrist. Taking her lead Warrick gently started to clean and bandage Nick's other wrist to keep him from losing anymore blood, and both were relieved to find the injuries were minimal though neither one liked the look of the bruise on Nick's neck and on his face.

"Why don't you take him on home, Warrick. He's obviously too tired to work anymore tonight anyway, and we haven't gotten too far, so just stay with him, alright?"

"Okay- but what about-"

"Don't worry about the scene, I'll call Gil, and get him down here to help me process. I didn't see any trace on him or under his nails, but you might want to check him when he wakes back up. And, maybe I'll stop by later to see how he's doing."

"Okay sounds like a plan, and let me know if anything big turns up."

Catherine nodded and jumped out of the middle seat before carefully shutting the door behind her. Warrick let out a quiet sigh before wrapping the seat belt around Nick's waist, and taking the side belts and securing Nick's chest and legs. He paused for just a moment to look at Nick's face before jumping out of the other door, and climbing into the driver's seat.

It wasn't long before he was heading through the fairly empty side streets of Vegas heading towards Nick's home. Every few minutes he'd take another glance at Nick through the rearview mirror and feel relief that something worse hadn't happened to his friend. He was also glad that Nick seemed to be resting fitfully, and didn't seem to be in the throes of a nightmare.

* * *

"Grissom."

"Gil, it's Catherine, I need you down here now."

He didn't know what to make of her tone. While it sounded relieved it also sounded nervous and urgent. "What's going on? Is something wrong?"

"I guess it's good news, and bad news…" she paused and took a deep breath, "Nick was attacked at the scene. He wasn't badly hurt, we have no idea how long he was out for. We found him cuffed to a pipe in a shed out past the track, a few hours at most. Warrick's, uh, taking him home now."

"What's the good news?"

"Odds are that it's connect to Billy Meyers' death, and we might have more luck with this crime scene."

"Alright, I'll be there soon- just one more thing. What in the hell was Nick doing out there alone?" He knew his tone was harsh, but he didn't truly care.

"He wasn't alone. Officer Kyle Peterson was with him… there's no sign of him now, I've already contacted Brass, and they're working on finding him now."

"Okay, I'm on my way. Oh, and Catherine- be careful." Grissom sighed and closed his phone, successfully ending the call. He methodically began rubbing his temple in hopes that he would be able to ward off a full-blown migraine. The last thing he wanted to happen was for someone else to hurt Nick. Though he had to admit that everything was getting better now that Nick was back on the team. Fights had essentially ceased, and tension seemed to be at an all-time low since they had rescued him from his grave. It wasn't something he even wanted to think about going through again.

His plans for telling Nick he was going to be promoted would also have to be postponed, and that only served to make things worse. After a few more minutes he quickly took a pill and stuck the bottle back in his desk, and quickly grabbed his coat before heading out of his office.

* * *

Nick was still fast asleep by the time Warrick gently eased the Denali into the driveway. If it hadn't been for the occasional murmur or movement he would've suspected Nick had fallen unconscious. Without saying a word he quietly got of the vehicle, and started to unbuckle Nick as carefully as he could in an attempt to let him sleep. It was a few minutes before he found himself easing Nick off the seat and into his arms, and it took just as long to carry the man to the front door. Once the security system was successfully disarmed, and he had gotten Nick inside, Warrick had to bite his lip and force himself not to drop his best friend.

As soon as he had gotten Nick in his bed he let out something of a triumphant grin before hurrying back outside to lock the Denali and to make sure all of Nick's doors and windows were locked. The last thing he wanted was for his friend to feel the need to search his entire house to see if anything seemed out of place. Minutes later he was back in the comfortable recliner Nick had bought to place in his bedroom. Whenever asked he would tell people it had been for his friends so they could at least get something of a good rest while staying with him after he had been abducted and buried alive.

Although Warrick also knew that Nick had spent plenty of nights sleeping in the recliner himself. It was just another sign of how much his friend had gone through, which would have probably irritated Warrick just to see it. Except it was Nick, and no matter how hard he had tried over the years, or however mad he had been, he just couldn't bring himself to be anything towards Nick except a friend. Had it been anyone else he reluctantly had to admit he'd have probably told them to get over it.

But it was Nick.

* * *

Grissom couldn't help but cross his fingers as he drove.

"_Nick was attacked…"_

Words he never wanted to hear. His head was already beginning to hurt even more and he wished he had taken two pills instead of one. Images of Nick lying in a glass coffin, with bloodied hands pushing weakly against the top plagued his memory. As did the case itself.

Grissom wasn't exactly sure when it had started to bother him. Only the more he looked at it, the less it made sense. All the effort that had gone into trying to abduct Lindsey had certainly cost a fortune. Silencers, multiple vehicles, over twenty hired men. The list went on, and he just couldn't see how a bankrupt man could afford such costs. It didn't help that Edward Donovan had just given up in the end. If he had been so willing to abduct and hurt people why hadn't he shot Sam Braun instead of himself. There were too many unanswered questions, such as the mystery woman who had apparently been allowed to look through the Lab's personnel files. That had required an amazing amount of self control to not burst out yelling at Judy when she told him about it only four days ago.

The school was coming into view, and he couldn't help but feel nervous. Nick had been missing for hours. Normally he'd feel relieved, but something felt wrong. Grissom knew it wasn't the least bit scientific, and he was still learning just how insightful and useful a gut feeling could be. The few times he had let himself follow his own instincts he had usually come out relatively unscathed. With a quiet sigh he pulled in behind a police cruiser.

His eyes scanned the parking lot, his memory replaying what Nick had done there just six months ago. Knowing the blood was still there, though only visible under an ALS, wasn't the least bit comforting. _Nick's okay. Just process the scene, and help catch the guy who did this. It's all we can do. Just have to stay focused.

* * *

_

Warrick was more than confused when he woke up. It took him a moment to remember where he was, and he immediately tried to jump up to make sure that Nick was all right when the memories came flooding back. Only he hadn't realized that there had been a blanket placed over him, and instead of landing on his feet he fell to the floor.

He was glad Nick had spent the money for good carpeting, and let out a small groan as several stiff muscles began to take their toll on him. It was a few moments before he managed to untangle himself and look around Nick's room. When he noticed the bed was empty he realized that Nick must have placed the blanket over him while he was still asleep. A few minutes later he managed to fully wake up and made his way into the living room.

A small smile played on his lips, as he smelled the food being made in Nick's kitchen. "What are ya cooking?"

Nick smiled, and immediately turned and pulled Warrick into a hug. He let out a slight chuckle before pulling back and returning to his oven. "Eggs, bacon, sausage, all out breakfast… for lunch."

"Nice. You, uh, you okay? No need to get anything checked, or what?" Warrick started hesitantly. He knew Nick's health was a touchy subject, and the last thing he wanted was for Nick to get upset and frustrated.

"I'll be okay, Warrick. My neck hurts some, but I'm okay. Already checked out my wrists, cuts weren't deep, and I got em bandaged again. Now consider this as something of a thank you. I mean it's the least I could do for you… after what you've, uh, done for me."

"Your friendship is thanks enough." Warrick answered quickly with a large smile. He was slightly surprised at the unsure expression on Nick's face. Relief washed over him as the look on Nick's face changed from uncertain to a wide grin. Both of them knew it was true.

It didn't matter what it was, they'd do anything for each other.

"Come on man, let's eat." Nick answered. His nerves calming when he knew Warrick wasn't going to bring up what had happened to him again. It was bad enough that he'd have to give a statement, something he really wasn't looking forward to. The knowledge that his personnel file was probably at least twice as long as the others was disconcerting, and he found himself wondering if he'd have stayed in Vegas had he not been so close to the others on the team._ It doesn't matter- I'm here now. I'm gonna be okay._

Nick didn't let his mind drift any further as he quickly piled some food onto his plate and followed Warrick to the table. He wasn't about to let his past to ruin is life, and it certainly wouldn't stop him from enjoying his breakfast and spending time with his best friend. Before long they had fallen into their usual bantering.

* * *

"Hey Greg- could we talk?" Sara called after him in the hallway. Though he had made it through the shift she was still concerned about him. Greg had always had energy, and he had never mentioned having problems sleeping before.

"What do you need Sara?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You were just- really tired tonight, and I've never seen you like that before. Guess I was just worried."

"I'm fine Sara, really. I'll see you later."

Sara cast another worried glance his way as Greg took off down the hall. After a short debate she decided not to go after him. All she knew was that something wasn't quite right, and she had a feeling something else was making Greg so tired, and it didn't involve merely having trouble sleeping. She decided she'd talk to Grissom about it later, and try to approach Greg about it again. Until then she'd wait and see if he was any better during their next shift.

* * *

"Melissa Freeman speaking, and how may I help you today?"

"I have your orders, straight from the boss himself. The clock is ticking, so we'll have to move fast. You're going back in to get another file. Name is Paul Davenport. I want everything you can dig up on him as soon as possible, understood?"

"Absolutely. I always love a challenge, so when you get one, let me know, John. Maybe I'll even look into your case, they still can't find you."

"I'll be as good as dead by the time their next shift is over."

"Good. I suggest you keep a close eye on Luke, though, he could compromise us. He's been making an awful lot of calls without permission- using our equipment to make sure no one can trace the call. It's possible he's talking to the police."

"I doubt it, they have no clue as to what's going on, as for the calls… I'll take care of it. I'm on my way to visit our guest. He was still out cold the last time I checked, but I'm sure the man will wake up soon enough, it was only a light blow to the head after all. Now get to work."

* * *

To Be Continued…

* * *

Notes: Sorry it took so long to update, but this has been a busy week. Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter, and the plot is starting to fall into place, and I'm pretty sure I know where this is going. Thanks for all the reviews, and I look forward to any thoughts you have on this chapter.

* * *


	6. Phone Calls

**What a Beautiful Mess

* * *

**

Four hours after they had started Grissom and Catherine wearily made their way into the lab. Both had relentlessly searched for evidence, but neither had much to show for it. There had been what could have been marks made from someone's shoes along a short patch of grass. If that were the case then someone had been dragged away from the track, and had most likely been unconscious.

Catherine hadn't found any evidence on Nick when she had briefly checked him in the Denali Warrick had taken off in. Although they did know that whoever it was had to be connected to the school. Grissom had noticed that the lock on the shed Nick had been found in was the same type as the others, and also labeled in marker. That would mean that the next shift she would probably be heading back out to the school to ask the head custodians more questions.

The only other possible clue they found was that the bruise Catherine had seen on Nick's neck looked remarkably similar to the bruise across Billy Meyers' chest. There were no prints, and no trace evidence had been collected. In the end, they both knew that there wasn't anything they could do. Archie had already reported that nothing had been seen on the security cameras, and no officers around the rest of the building had seen anyone leave.

They looked over what little they had for a little over a half an hour before he noticed Catherine was watching him. "You should head home- get some rest."

"Alright, then I'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait- you're not coming in for tonight's shift?"

"Gil- I already told you twice, I have to go to a rehearsal dinner tonight for my parents. They're getting married in a few days."

"Oh… well, enjoy, and the, uh, best of luck to them."

Catherine shook her head and smiled weakly. "Thanks, just- just promise to let me know if something big happens, alright?"

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thanks, and you ought to head home and get some rest to- not good to be running on empty."

Grissom nodded as she left. He stayed for another hour, in hopes that some clue might give them Officer Peterson's location, but there was no luck. The man had simply disappeared, and he wasn't sure if the officer was a victim or a suspect. Knowing there was nothing he could do he decided he'd head home, and wait to see if the detectives on the case found anything useful. For now, he'd leave the search for Peterson to the dayshift in hopes that a fresh pair of eyes might be helpful to solving the case.

* * *

"Who gave you permission to make those calls?"

"Look- listen man, it's nothing, really. I-I swear."

"We have a job to do- that means no screwing off. As far as the boss is concerned you're just a complication. He likes things simple. Which is where I come in."

"John- really, I didn't compromise anything…"

"Doesn't really matter."

* * *

It had been one hell of a meeting, and to say the least Conrad Ecklie was already frustrated. Hearing that there was a missing officer, and that Nick Stokes had been assaulted were not things he wanted to hear at the beginning of his day.

"Excuse me Mr. Ecklie, my name is Melissa Freeman, I'm with Internal Affairs. I need to look into some of the personnel files."

He looked up, and was surprised to see the stunning blonde standing only a couple of feet from him. Her long hair fell straight down her, back, and the expensive business suit clearly showed she had money. He paused for a moment deciding that the accent was somewhere from Eastern Europe. "I assume you checked in with the receptionist at the front desk."

"Of course."

"Alright then, just follow me."

* * *

"Hey, Warrick- I hate to do this, but I… I gotta ask Nick some questions." Brass stumbled, searching for words, but coming up with nothing that sounded right. He could handle any suspect, almost any victim, but when it came to Nick, everything was different. Nothing would make asking him to open up and tell him about the previous night's events easy.

"Sure, come on in, we were just eating a late breakfast." Warrick answered before leading Brass into Nick's home. He caught a brief glimpse of Nick carrying a few plates and glasses to his dishwasher. "Hey Nick, Brass is here."

"Yeah, I guess I should've been waiting for this."

"I wish we didn't have to, but we need to know what happened last night." Brass offered, relief spread through him when Nick motioned for him to sit on the couch. His eyes scanned the various objects on the shelves, noting various trophies, books, and the multitude of pictures. Over half of them were ones of the team. "So-"

"I didn't see it coming. Officer Peterson, he was… hanging back a bit, following me. I could hear his footsteps behind me. Then I made it to the sheds, and the footsteps were close, so I figured he was still there. One of the sheds was open, so I pulled my gun, and went in to make sure no one was there. Then there was this other guy, I couldn't see him very well, I think he was wearing all black. He asked me if I was Nick Stokes, and then I turned around, and he must've seen the name on my vest… then I saw Peterson lying about halfway down the track…" Nick stopped his voice starting to give out. He quickly looked down, and tried to covertly wipe at the tears building up in his eyes.

Warrick clenched his jaw to keep it from hanging open. It made him sick to think that someone had followed him along the track after knocking down the officer. The fact that the person had specifically asked if he was Nick also made his head spin and his stomach tighten.

"Did you see what he attacked you with?" Brass hated himself for asking thee questions. He didn't know if he should be glad that he couldn't see the pain on Nick's face, or if the fact that Nick wouldn't look at them meant it went beyond painful for the younger man.

"It was made of some type of metal. Maybe if I saw it again I'd recognize it." Nick stopped, and took a few deep breaths before risking a glance up at the detective. "I- I'm sorry… I wish I could give you more-"

"You gave us plenty, Nick. Don't sweat it, alright?" Brass answered, cutting off Nick's needless apology. While his heart would always go out to the younger man, he would always find himself irritated by Nick's need to apologize when something was clearly not his fault. Of course, there wasn't even the slightest chance he'd ever let that irritation out on Nick.

"I- I can come back… next shift, uh tonight, right?"

"Only if you feel up to it. You need your rest, and after… just don't push yourself too much, okay, Nick?"

"Yeah, okay. Oh, and Brass… thanks." Nick looked up, tears gone, and a weak smile plastered on his face.

"No problem. You two take it easy. I need to go visit Ellie at the rehab center, and Annie is waiting for me right now."

"How is she?"

"She's getting better Nick. Guess I don't want to jinx it, but I think it's gonna work." Brass answered with a bigger smile. _Leave it to Nick to check up on everyone else. _"Now, seriously, if I find out you've been pushing yourself too much… you'll have me to answer to, got it?"

"Yeah." Nick answered, his smile growing wider, more life reentering his eyes. Warrick merely nodded, and shot him a grin. The two exchanged a quick look, one which showed how thankful Warrick was that Brass had handled the situation so well, and Brass sending his own thanks to Warrick for watching out for Nick.

* * *

Sara raced through the halls. Vartann had called her two hours before her shift was supposed to begin, and told her they had found the remains of John Fisher's car. Without the slightest hesitation she grabbed one of the keys to a Denali, and in minutes she was racing along the strip towards the small picnic area the car had been found in. She wasn't quite sure what to make of Vartann's comment about only finding the remains of the vehicle.

"Ugh, what do you want?"

"Greg- It's Sara… nice hello by the way."

"Bite me, I was actually sleeping, and I plan to keep on sleeping until next shift. I've got the night off." Greg shot back, and the rest he had planned on saying was cut off by his own yawn. The truth was that he was finally relieved. The past few nights had been plagued with weird phone calls, and he had even gotten Archie to try and trace them. After the initial freaking out when he hadn't received any calls, he had done a thorough search through his home. One that even included the attic.

After that he had fallen asleep.

* * *

"Stokes."

"Hi, this is Evelyn Richards. Listen, Mr. Stokes-"

"Nick."

"Nick… I tried to call Catherine but I can't get through. I- I didn't know who else to call. I've found blood on the school grounds- lots of blood, and I was on hold when I called 911. Just, had your number from that party after the play, and I thought you could check it out."

"Yeah, uh alright. I'll be there soon. I'll get some uniforms to meet us there. Just, uh, be careful…"

"I've already locked myself in my office."

"Okay, we'll be there as soon as we can." Nick answered before closing his phone. He only grinned slightly at Warrick's curious gaze. "We have to go. Need to get to Butterfield Academy, ASAP, I'll call Brass on our way there. Theater director found blood somewhere in the school."

"Sure, but only if you're up for it, man. You do need to take it a bit easy on that leg."

Nick closed his eyes for a moment but opened them quickly when all he had seen was Billy Meyers. It was getting harder not to picture the boy in his mind. He was also picturing Peterson lying on the track. Waves of nausea hit him as he remembered the footsteps that he had thought belonged to the missing officer. Nick quickly brushed it off, knowing he had to focus on the case. A man was missing because of him, and he'd make sure they got him back in one piece.

He wasn't sure he'd be able to handle it if they didn't.

* * *

Catherine let out a soft sigh. She still wasn't entirely sure about what her parents were doing, and though she wanted to believe that Sam had changed she wasn't entirely sure. Words he had uttered six months ago still echoed through her mind.

It didn't help that there was a missing police officer, or that Nick had been assaulted. There hadn't been a single time over the past few months that she suspected he'd needed friends more. Even after everything they had gone through, everything she had told him, he still tried to keep it all in. Though she had no doubt that Nick was getting better. In the end, Catherine wanted to be able to be there for him, and she knew she'd never forgive herself if she wasn't.

* * *

Brass let out a sigh and hung up his phone. He had been hoping for a little amount of time before the next shift to try and relax. Ellie hadn't spoken much, and he had been a bit too tired to pry. Having to ask Nick what had happened to him had already taken most of his energy, and now they needed him back at the school. It took awhile, but he forced himself to calm down, mostly by making himself focus on what Nick was going through for the sake of the case. The man had probably only gotten a few hours of sleep at most, and with his arm and leg still clearly bothering him at times, Brass was impressed that he was still going.

He was going twenty miles per hour over the speed limit. He knew Warrick and Nick would most likely be speeding as well, and the last thing he wanted was for the two CSIs to be at the school, and another possible scene, all alone.

He pulled into the main lot in front of the school, his eyes once more taking in the dark bricks, and the concrete steps leading up to the main doors. With one deft movement he had his gun out, and was waving towards the growing number of officers that had also arrived. His eyes scanned the group for any signs of Nick or Warrick, and Brass was anything but relieved when he saw the Denali parked across the lot. There wasn't a sign of either CSI.

* * *

"Come on man, her office is this way."

"Shouldn't we have waited for Brass, man this is _not_ what I meant by taking it easy." Warrick hissed back quietly, cursing himself for letting Nick convince him to head into the darkened building. The main entry had been unlocked, and they were slowly making their way down one of the large halls. Both were hugging the walls, and careful not to knock the metal lockers. The school was completely silent, and their careful footsteps sounded like thunder to their ears.

"He'll be here. We're just making sure this lady is safe, alright?"

"Okay, but I've got a bad feeling about this, bro." Warrick answered his voice still hushed as they continued down the hall, guns in hand. He could only hope that Nick knew what he was doing, and that he wouldn't regret it later.

Nick bit his lip, and kept moving. Eyes occasionally turning back to make sure it was still Warrick who was following behind him. He knew he was probably being stupid, but he had felt it in his gut that they needed to get to the woman's office before something seriously terrible happened.

"It's just up this flight of stairs, and down another hall. We're almost there." They paused at the stairs, and before Nick could even ask Warrick had slipped his arm around his friend's waist. Without a word he began to help Nick up the steps, and though Nick refused to look at him he already knew the expression on his friend's face.

"It's no big deal, Nick. No shame in needing help."

Their eyes met briefly before Nick answered, "Th-thanks man."

Moments later they reached the top of the stairwell, and were facing another long, empty hallway. Once more they were moving in silence, making their way towards the small office, both hoping the innocent woman locked inside was still safe.

* * *

"Grissom."

"It's Archie. I, uh, I got bad news… we've got a tape. Nothing's happened so far, and I'm working on tracing the webcam signal, but it isn't easy. He's, uh, he still appears to be unconscious though…"

Grissom took in a sharp breath. There was no need for Archie to tell him who was on the other end of the camera. It was Officer Peterson. "I'm on my way. What can you tell me about the surrounding area?"

"Looks like he's, uh, surrounded b-by Pl-Plexiglas… He has some bruises, but otherwise… I'd say he's physically okay."

"Okay, keep working on tracing it. I'll call Cathe- Sara, and bring her in." Grissom answered. He let out a soft sigh, wishing he had more people to call on. Though he knew Nick and Warrick would be available he wasn't about to call Nick in early after he had been assaulted. The same went for Warrick since he was sure the man was still with Nick.

* * *

Sara furrowed her eyebrows in concentration. Paul was on the other end of the black van. She didn't allow herself to draw on the fact that they were only yards from where Nick's SUV had crashed over six months back. If she looked she could still see some of the large gouges that had been made on that dreadful night. Though she would never admit it, the images of Nick trying to out drive numerous vans, and trying to run through the trees plagued her nightmares.

Then it hit her. Her eyes zeroed in on the van, and she felt a lump forming in her throat. It was the same make and model of the vans that had chased Nick and Lindsey to this deserted area.

All Sara could do was let out a shaky breath as she prayed that the man Grissom had told her about didn't exist. She prayed that they had in all actuality accounted for everyone in Donovan's employ. Some of the pieces didn't fit well enough for her stomach to settle, and her eyes drifted around the forest. Except for the few other officers, herself, and Paul, they were alone.

"Sara! Hey- Sara!"

The shouting drew her out of her shock. "Huh? Sorry, what were-"

"Are you okay?" Paul questioned, his voice laced with concern.

"Yeah- w-why wouldn't I be okay?" Sara shot back, trying to keep her voice from quivering.

"I called your name about ten times, and you didn't answer. Is there something wrong?"

"I have to call Grissom."

* * *

"You must be Catherine." She wheeled around, her long fluttering dress whirling around her legs. She had just given her parents a toast ten minutes ago, and since then had been wandering about the massive reception hall.

"And you are…" She let her voice fade out, leading the man into introducing himself. The fact that there were strangers here who knew her didn't sit well with her, and she would have been grateful if she had been out on a decomp.

"Ty Caulfield. Your father and I are something of… business adversaries. I own several casinos here in Vegas, in fact some friends of yours solved a crime for me once. Well, you ravishing, your parents must be proud."

"They are." Catherine answered simply, already deciding that she didn't care for the man.

"And your daughter, Lindsey is it? She certainly is precious…"

Catherine bit her tongue to stop the flippant remark she wanted to shoot back at him. The way he had gazed intently out onto the dance floor at Sam and Lindsey dancing made her instantly uncomfortable. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Caulfield, but I'm afraid I have to go."

"The pleasure was all mine."

Catherine shot him one last glance, not sure why he last line sounded so ominous. Either way she was ready to go, and after she got her daughter to bed she'd be sure to call Nick and make sure he was doing okay.

"Hey, Sam- sorry, but we've really gotta get going. It's getting pretty late."

"Alright, Mugs. Just- one more dance? Please, for me?"

"Okay." Catherine relented, and let her fingers intertwine with her father's. Another song started up, and she easily moved along with her father as he twirled her. She caught on last look of the inauspicious grin on Caulfield's face before she was once more pulled into Sam's arms. The warm, loving smile on her father's face immediately washed away all other thoughts, and she let herself smile.

* * *

They stopped. The door to her office was only a few yards away, and they could see the clear figure of another man standing near the door. Nick turned briefly making eye contact with Warrick before they raised their guns, and started to move forward.

The loud click broke the silence, and neither one needed to turn around to know the all too familiar sound.

* * *

To Be Continued…

* * *

Notes: Hope you enjoyed this chapter. The more reviews, the more motivation, and the sooner I get the next chapter done. I'm sorry it's been taking me so long to update, but I've been having some trouble getting my ideas into words. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far, they can really help make my day, and they do keep me going.

* * *


	7. Butterfield Academy

**What a Beautiful Mess

* * *

**

The gun clicked. Neither man moved. Warrick shifted his gaze, and met Nick's eyes. It would have been impossible to misinterpret the guilt, and sorrow there. He looked back in time to see that the dark figures by the door were still there, it was possible that they had never even seen them. His eyes flickered back to Nick, and he could see a single tear falling along his cheek.

Only now the Texan's jaw was set, and though he could barely see Nick's eye he swore there was a flicker of emotion there that he hadn't seen in quite some time. _Don't do anything stupid, Nick- don't do anything stupid…_

He willed it with all his strength, praying silently that Nick could hear him. When he saw Nick's fingers tighten around his gun he knew there would be no stopping the man from going through with whatever plan his mind had concocted. All Warrick could do was hope that it worked, and that it hadn't been done out of guilt.

Nick knew what he had to do. One look at Warrick had been too much. He had been a fool, but there was nothing he could do about that now. With one swift movement he had swung around, gun raising.

He watched as Nick began to spin around, and not knowing what else to do he fell to the tile floor, letting out a groan that he hoped was more convincing than he thought. His eyes flashed up, to see the two men down the hall lift their heads. Two shots rang out; he didn't dare take the time to look over his shoulder to see if Nick was okay. Instead he lifted his arm and fired off as many rounds as he could until the two men at the door fell to the cool tile floor.

When he felt the hand on his shoulder he let out a sigh of relief, and slowly turned his head to see Nick sitting next to him.

"It's alright, just a bit sore. We need to get her, and get the hell out of this place, bro." Nick spoke, cutting off the question he knew his friend was just about to ask. He stopped rubbing his left ankle, and forced back the moan as he managed to stand up.

Neither one spoke again as they made their way to the solid wood door. Nick gently rapped against the polished wood before he spoke. "Miss Richards? It's me, Nick. It's safe, for now, but we gotta get you out of here." He glanced over to Warrick who was carefully checking for a pulse on either of the two men. When he looked back up at Nick the look in his eyes told him all he needed to know. They were dead.

Both sets of eyes returned to the door as they heard a soft click, and the hinges creaked as the door cracked open. Seconds later it swung the rest of the way open, and the slender theater director stepped out into the dark hallway.

* * *

"I was just trying to call you."

"Yeah well, I've got news… not sure if it's good or bad, actually." Sara responded rapidly.

"Well, I need you back here at the lab, we've received a video feed of Officer Peterson. You're the only one left. Nick and Warrick should be in soon, but after what happened I didn't want to bring them in early, and Catherine's out, probably still at her parent's rehearsal dinner."

"Alright, I'll be there as soon as I can. Besides you have to fill me in on your case anyway- I think our missing person is connected with the Donovan case. Same make and model of van found at his warehouse, and it was found upside down about thirty yards from where Nick's Denali crashed."

That caught Grissom off guard. He was starting to get the feeling that something big was going down, and he knew that whatever it was, it wouldn't be good for anyone. His eyes went back to the computer screen and for a moment it was Nick that he saw on the screen, his blood getting everywhere.

* * *

"Oh God. They were trying to break into my office. They must have seen me when I found the blood in the gym. I ran straight here, there's a small staircase just down there, it opens into the hall just down past the gym lobby." She spoke softly, brushing a few strands of wavy auburn hair behind her ear. Both looked down the hall and noticed the staircase at the end of it. Nick and Warrick shared a silent nod and together the three made their ways towards the stairs.

They had barely moved five feet when they froze. Footsteps echoed at the base of the stairs, Nick's gut clenched, and something told him there was a problem. "We need to go- I… there's something wrong- just we gotta turn around…"

Warrick only shot him a furtive glance, but in the end he trusted Nick's gut feelings much more than his own. Nick just had a way of feeling when something was wrong, and while the Texan couldn't always explain it, Warrick knew he could pick up on the faintest clue and just know it wasn't right. "Okay- let's go back."

They slowly started to make their way back down the hall, just barely turning the corner when they heard the footsteps moving up the stairs. They just briefly caught sight of a masked man reach the top of the stairs before they took off running. Warrick was glad he had listened to Nick, and that they hadn't been caught at the top of the stairs. His heart sunk when he heard a shout from behind them and the sound of shoes clicking rapidly on the tile floor.

* * *

"I'll walk you to the doors." Sam offered. Lindsey and her mother were ahead of them and Catherine gently pulled him back.

"Thank you, listen, Sam- I know I've been dragging my heels with all of this, but I just wasn't sure if you'd pull through. The truth is that you've said things, _done_ things that have to make me cautious about this. Since I actually started spending time with you- you've always been so… inconsistent. I see you one week and you're all smiles, and saying 'I should've married your mother' the next week you're a suspect in a murder investigation."

"I love your mother, Mugs. Whether you believe it or not. I'm not doing this just because I want to do right by all of you- she matters to me. So do you and Lindsey. But I'm no Nick Stokes. I may not be good enough for you, but I do my best."

"You were doing _so_ good too. I'm _not_ asking you to be like Nick. You _can't_ be like him, because he's… unique. There isn't another person I know who has ever cared about me or Lindsey like he does, we're friends, practically _family_. You could take some lessons from him though. Try putting my Mom ahead of yourself. Try not to judge people, _especially_ your family."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Nothing- I want you to be happy. I know you can make my mom happy- you can make Lindsey happy too. Please, just don't let me down. You've got so much potential to be a better man. I want this to work." Catherine answered, her voice softening considerably. "I care about you Sam. Now we had better get going, I need to get Lindsey in bed."

"Alright Mugs, and for what it's worth I'm sorry. I- I know there were things I've said, and done, that were wrong- especially concerning your friend. And I do love you. I love Lily and Lindsey too. Now why don't we get going, it's late, and we can finish this up later." She smiled softly, and placed her arm in his as they stepped out into the lobby. They were just stepping out of the large glass doors when three large black vans pulled to a stop on the other side of the street.

* * *

"We've got shots fired! Let's go, now!" Brass bellowed into the night air. Every officer on scene responded, and with guns raised began their ascent up the flight of stairs that led to the front doors. Before he even had the chance to move out from behind his car he heard glass shattering. His eyes barely had time to register the broken window on the second floor before there were bullets flying everywhere. Instincts took over and he ducked behind his car.

The familiar sounds of 9mm Berettas echoed, and he knew the remaining officers were returning fire. Brass eased his front door open and peered through the windshield, looking for the best possible shot. His eyes rested on the gunman who was just visible inside the window. Knowing that Nick and Warrick were somewhere inside the building was enough to withdraw any hesitation he might have had otherwise.

He pulled the trigger.

* * *

"They're over here!"

Warrick shot around and saw the lone figure standing at the end of the hall. He hesitated for just a moment before he pulled his trigger. None of them watched as the man crumpled to the floor.

Once more they took off running, searching for a safe route out of the building. Evelyn had taken the lead and her shaking hands were trying to fit a key into one of the doors. Warrick easily caught up with her, and froze when he noticed that Nick was still several yards back, trying his best to keep up. The fresh layer of sweat on his face was enough to tell Warrick just how hard it was getting.

He took a deep breath before racing back down the hall, and wrapping his arm around Nick's waist. Warrick gently pulled Nick's left arm over his shoulders. Together they moved back towards the door that the terrified woman was still holding open for them. Seconds later they slipped into the room, and followed her past several rows of bookshelves before stopping behind a large counter.

Nick released his grip on Warrick as fast as he could. He gingerly laid his leg out in front of him before letting the rest of his body sag to the floor. They needed some type of plan to get out of the building, and he was grateful that it might offer him a chance to rest his leg. It had been hard enough for him to keep moving at all when he had heard the gunshots, even though they had come from his own gun.

The mere sound scared him senseless. Except there wasn't any time to break down. If he did they could all get killed, and that was something he couldn't let happen. Knowing that he had placed Warrick in danger was even worse. The knowledge that his best friend could die because of him made his eyes water and suddenly he was fighting the growing urge to burst out into tears.

After a subtle glance from Warrick to ask if he was okay Nick only nodded and averted his eyes. Instead he looked around the large room, and over towards a railing. They were in the library, and he was actually impressed by the size. There was a large hole in the middle of the room, the glass railing surrounding that proved that the library at least extended one floor down. His eyes searched from around the corner to look for any stairs that were in the room.

"Does this go down to the first floor?" He whispered, a slight plan forming in his mind. Though he only roughly knew the layout of the massive school, they were with a woman who knew every part of it like the back of her hand.

"Yes, we could get out through the east side of the building from there… that wall has the least amount of windows, and there's a group of trees near there where we could probably hide."

"Brass will be here soon, with backup if they aren't already." Warrick couldn't have chosen a worse time for his statement. Seconds later they heard the familiar sounds of rapid gunfire. None of them needed to see it to know what was happening.

The cavalry had arrived, but there was still plenty of resistance.

* * *

"What the-" Catherine tried to turn around but before she could a strong hand had clamped down on her arm. The bit of metal she had felt pressed against her back only now registered in her mind as a gun. She took one glance over at Sam only to see that he was no better off than her.

"Keep moving- and maybe you'll make it out of here alive." The voice was cold, menacing. At the same time it sounded vaguely familiar. Catherine allowed herself to be pushed towards one of the black vans, her eyes searching for anything she could do. There was nothing, she couldn't grab her cell phone from her purse without anyone noticing, and she couldn't run in the heels she had chosen to wear.

Her next instinct was to search for the limousine. It nearly made her sick to her stomach when she realized that it was the first thing she should have done. It was still there, but she couldn't tell if Lindsey or her mother, were safe inside. She had no real clue as to what was going on, not sure if she could handle it.

* * *

"He's waking up."

Sara looked up from her pile of evidence so she could see the screen. Grissom's eyes were taking in every slight detail. The man could very well have been Nick. The way he sat up and hit his head was almost a perfect imitation of how Nick had first woken when he had been buried alive, though no one but Nick would've known it. It wasn't even the slightest bit of a surprise when he began to push up against the Plexiglas in hopes he'd be able to free himself from hell.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Grissom- there's been a problem." Both sets of eyes turned to look right at her.

"What is it Judy?"

"I saw that name- Melissa Freeman on one of the sign in sheets…"

"Sara- call Greg, now. Then call Warrick and Nick. I have to go." He immediately rose to leave, his eyes glancing back towards the computer monitor once more. Before he even realized it his feet were carrying him to the door. It was Sara's voice that stopped him.

"Wait- Grissom, where are you going?"

"I have to find Catherine."

* * *

"Think we should get the hell out of here, or hope they don't find us?" Warrick asked, but he already knew what the response would be. Nick would never settle for waiting like a sitting duck. And he had a feeling the woman they had come here for would feel the same way. The gunfire had ceased, but occasionally they'd still hear a few scattered shots.

"We get the hell out of dodge." Nick was quick to answer, his voice never betraying the fear that was threatening to overcome him. He was grateful to have his pistol in his hands to keep them from shaking. "So Evelyn, you up for leading us out of this place?"

"Yeah. I- I, uh, guess so." She offered a weak smile, and was surprised when she felt a firm hand take hold of hers. Her eyes traveled down and she could tell that Nick was having his own problems keeping himself in control. Even through his firm, yet gentle, grip she could feel it trembling slightly.

"It'll be okay. I promise."

No one said anything else as they crouched down and began to move slowly amongst the towering bookcases. Each of them focused on their movements, making sure they didn't make any more noise than was necessary. The last thing they wanted was for any bullets to be sent in their direction.

* * *

Brass didn't feel much in the way of satisfaction when his bullet pierced through the man's skull, and he tumbled down to the ground from the window. There were still three innocent people in the school, if not more. Two of them were his friends, and he only hoped he'd get the chance to lecture them both about safety. After all, if he got the chance to lecture them it'd mean he'd get to see them alive, and that was what really mattered.

It wasn't like he could blame the two men anyhow. There was a woman inside that had called Nick for help, and when it came to saving a life then consequences were damned. He just hoped they'd get inside fast enough to be able to offer some help.

With a sudden burst of energy he sprinted for the front doors. His mind barely registered the sound of another window breaking as more bullets rained down from above. Brass wasn't sure how he did it, but seconds later he sat standing just inside the front doors of the school. His adrenaline was pumping through his body giving him the most energy he'd had in months, if not years. It was enough to surprise even him.

The sound of bullets brought him back into reality and he paused for just a moment when he realized the gunshots he'd just heard hadn't come from outside. Swearing silently to himself he tore off down the hallway, hoping he'd still find Nick and Warrick in one solid, breathing piece.

* * *

To Be Continued…

* * *

Notes: Sorry it is taking me so long to update, but it's been difficult getting my ideas down into words, and it doesn't help that I'm starting to get slightly distracted by other stories that I'm writing. My mind just hasn't been all too willing to focus on any single story, but hopefully now that I'm done with work for the summer I'll be able to get more done. Thanks for the reviews, and hope to see your thoughts on this chapter.

* * *


	8. Getting Out

**What A Beautiful Mess**

They didn't stop as they tore across the library using the shelves for cover. The echoes of the gunshots following their movements made each of them shake. Warrick led the way towards the stairs, Nick following close behind, hand still holding tightly to Evelyn's. Though neither really seemed to notice.

They barely made it down the flight of stairs before they heard the locked door burst open, the sound of the snapping wood echoed through the large library. They didn't dare stop as they hurried past even more shelves lined with books. Nick just barely caught sight of several children's books. Ones he had used to love reading whenever he needed to escape the reality of what had happened to him.

_No. This isn't the time. You have to stay focused, and get through this. No time to go and screw things up._

"Sir, we're closing in on them at the school."

"Good- take them alive, and bring them here. What about my old friend and his _dear_ daughter?"

"They're on the way here now, Sir."

"Good. Now, I want you to give Melissa her new assignment- I'm sure she'll enjoy the chance to prove some more of her worth. After all, her targets aren't the most experienced CSIs."

"You wish for John to go after the other two then?"

"Yes, I think the infamous Gil Grissom will prove to be an interesting opponent, and Mr. Fisher is the best man I have for the job."

"Alright, Sir, consider it done- I'll deliver their orders myself. I'm sure it'll be the first thing he does when he gets back from the school."

"Oh, and one more thing- when they arrive, bring Sam and Ms. Willows to the roof, have a table set up for four."

They never stopped. No one dared to speak as the raced past another row of bookshelves the footsteps on the tiled stairs all too clear in the silence of the empty school. Warrick had never felt so scared in his entire life. No one had ever hunted him down; no one had ever tried to kill him. It was all he could do to stop the shaking of his hands.

His eyes glanced over at Nick. He cursed himself silently every time he let his mind process how scared his best friend must be. Images of being alone in the middle of a dark forest, running for not only your own life but for the life of your friend's child coursed through his mind. Warrick wondered if that was where Nick's mind already was.

He had to admit he preferred being in a building. He preferred knowing that Brass was somewhere nearby, and that the cavalry was on their way. He preferred the fact that he could actually hear the gunshots that had directed at them. They were small comforts for a situation that was quickly going straight to hell.

Greg was feeling oddly relieved as he headed towards the Crime Lab. He was an hour late, but it didn't matter to him anymore. He had gotten the chance to sleep, and that was an opportunity he hadn't wanted to waste. His fingers danced along the top of the steering wheel, drumming along with the music.

Although as he thought about it he realized his tardiness wasn't fair for the rest of the team. They were already practically short by two CSIs. He didn't blame Nick for getting tired so easily, or for him being physically unable to get through a double shift, and barely capable of handling a single shift. Greg just hoped that Nick would continue to build up his strength, and hopefully, be able to get back to his full potential soon. He sighed quietly, letting his thoughts drift, but still keeping both eyes attentive to his surroundings as he drove.

Traffic was light, but it wasn't all that unusual being as late as it was. Not wanting to see the disappointment in Grissom's eyes he pushed down a bit more on the gas pushing him up just five miles over the limit. The sooner he got in, the better.

Nick took a deep breath. They were pinned down in between two large shelves. He could see the door, but there was no point running for it now. One of the men in the building was already down the staircase. Guilt assaulted him even more as he turned and took in the fear in Warrick's eyes. He knew it was his fault, after all, he had been the one to talk Warrick into going inside before Brass had even arrived.

He wanted to crawl into a corner and cry, but chided himself instantly. This was his mess; he had caused it. And he'd be damned if he wasn't going to fix it. Warrick deserved his best, so did Evelyn. His mind told him that he'd disappointed everyone once more; that he had proven to all of them that he could only bring his friends pain. Nick knew it didn't matter to him if he made it out of the school, all that mattered to him was that the two people beside him did.

Unable to make himself even look at Warrick he edged silently closer to the end of the shelf. A quick peek around the corner confirmed that the gunman didn't know where they were. Without a word he dropped Evelyn's hand, and focused intently on making sure his gun was steady. Before anyone could protest he swung out from his cover and took aim.

Warrick could have screamed. He didn't like the risks Nick was starting to take. Not a single one of them displayed any self-concern, and there was no way he was going to let anything happen to his brother. He just barely heard Nick's pistol go off before he turned around the far corner of the shelf and fired two shots at another gunman making aiming at Nick from the stairs.

Then there were more shouts coming from above them, and he barely glimpsed Nick pushing Evelyn towards the door before he moved to follow them. His eyes continued glancing over to the other man, but he couldn't see Nick's eyes. Warrick held back a sigh, not entirely sure he wanted to see the look in the Texan's eyes.

"It's not your fault, Nick." He tried, knowing it was a shot in the dark. But, he figured it was time he started making educated guesses, especially since he wasn't sure there were any solid emotions going through Nick's mind. Guilt was an obvious choice, one that his best friend was prone to feeling, especially since he had talked Warrick into entering the building.

Nick wasn't quite sure how to respond, and he had a feeling there was a lot more to Warrick's words. He bit his lip, and refrained from shaking his head. His actions in the last few moments had been brash, with no real thought of what would happen to himself. And though he wanted to believe his friend's words he wasn't sure if he could.

Instead he just offered a slight nod, and continued hurrying for the door.

"Where are you taking us?" His question was only answered by a short laugh. So he shifted his attention to his daughter, noticing that her eyes were carefully taking in every detail they could find that might prove helpful.

"It won't work."

"Oh really? And why is that Ms. Willows?"

"Doesn't matter how careful you are, or what you do. There's going to be somebody that'll follow the evidence, and you'll go down. So will your boss." Catherine answered, steeling her voice and her will. The only one who had spoken sounded vaguely familiar, but she still couldn't place the voice.

"No one will even know you're missing. Your family won't remember a thing by the time they wake up at your house in their beds. And your team is being dealt with."

Catherine nearly bit her lip at that, but she forced herself to keep in control. She couldn't afford to panic. She just had to find the opportunity to do anything she could to help the others.

Gunfire erupted behind them just after Warrick lunged through the door. Nick quickly pulled him back up to his feet, and they took off once more. It didn't take long for Nick to start falling behind, his left leg trailing slightly as he tried to keep up. His breath as coming in shorter ragged gasps, as he nearly tripped. His left leg felt like it was being weighed down, and yet he couldn't put too much weight on it without receiving a sharp spasm of pain in return.

Warrick was the first to notice. He swore under his breath, wishing that Nick had said something about his leg. Without a word to his friend he wrapped and arm around Nick's waist, and once more began to run down the hall, catching up to Evelyn as he helped keep pressure of Nick's left leg. The sound of footsteps behind them was more than nerve-racking, and pushed Warrick to move even faster. Sweat was falling faster with Nick's extra weight, but he wasn't about to let it slow them down.

He wouldn't let anyone hurt Nick again.

Brass fired two rounds, without the slightest hesitation. He watched in satisfaction as the masked man collapsed to the ground. His footsteps echoed in the hallway, but he couldn't slow down. Not when he heard another rapid series of gunshots coming from somewhere nearby.

More shots came from behind him, and he knew that the officers still outside the school weren't having much luck. As he passed the body he couldn't help but notice the gunman was holding the same model as the guns used by Donovan's men. That was when he couldn't suppress the shudder that ran down his spine.

All Brass hoped for was that this time around it wouldn't take another six months for Nick to recover.

The sound of an explosion somewhere behind him brought him back to reality, and he knew he had to get to the upper floors. While he desperately wanted to help Nick and Warrick, he also had a responsibility to protect the officers still outside. And by the sound of it, things weren't going well at all.

"Sara- we have to get out of here. There's a big shootout down at Butterfield Academy."

"So- wait, what are we supposed to do there, Grissom? Shouldn't we wait until-"

"Nick and Warrick are inside." Grissom answered. Sara's mouth hung open as realization of what that meant sunk in. He placed his hand softly on her shoulder, hoping it might provide some comfort. "I'll drive."

Sara could only mumble a quiet, "Alright…" before her voice trailed off and she tried not to picture images of her two friends lying in a cold hallway bleeding to death as the cops fought to gain entrance to the school. It was why she didn't even put up the slightest fight when Grissom took her arm and walked with her to one of the Denalis.

Nick just barely glanced over his shoulder when he saw one of the gunman tear into the dark hallway. He barely managed to throw Warrick to the floor when the shots rang out. Evelyn had ducked behind the end of a long row of lockers, essentially curling up into a ball, so that he could barely see her.

He quickly backed himself flat against the far side of the hallway, the cold metal of the lockers pressing against him. One of the handles was digging into his back, but he hardly noticed as he lifted his gun and shot back.

Paul looked up just in time to see the stunning blonde woman waving him down. The Mercedes blinkers were on, and it was pulled over as far as it could go. Without thinking twice he pulled over, and quickly climbed out of his Denali, making sure to lock the doors to ensure that his evidence wouldn't be questioned later.

The woman was wearing an expensive fur coat, and as she walked towards the car with him he caught quick glimpses of the violet evening gown. When they reached the car she flashed him a dazzling smile, unlike any he'd ever seen before. "Just let me put my coat in the car, and I'll help you- something happened to my tire, and it's no good. I'd normally put the spare on myself, but with my dress…"

Paul smiled, and rubbed his hands together, wondering what his chances of securing a date with the young beauty were. He offered her a warm smile when she took off her fur coat, and revealed the dress that fit snug against her skin from her knees up. Her blonde hair fluttered a bit in the wind, and he felt his breath catch in his throat.

"So- any idea what happened Ms.-"

"Melissa Freeman, and no- I don't know what happened to my tire."

"Alright, Ms. Freeman… ya know, uh, no offense, but your name- it just doesn't match with your accent…"

"I changed my name when I moved here to the U.S. I wanted a completely fresh start here."

"Well- looks like you're doing a good job." He offered with a smile as he moved towards the trunk and waited for her to open it so he could retrieve her spare tire.

Greg waited impatiently for someone to show up. He stood up and paced for a few minutes before he plopped back down onto the couch in the break room. All he could do was wait for results that the techs were busy processing. His head was already hurting from spending so much time staring at various crime scene photos.

It didn't help that he had heard about what was happening down at Butterfield Academy. Greg couldn't help but imagine all the terrible things that could've happened there. He just hoped that the next time anyone paged or called him, it wouldn't be from a hospital.

Before the gunman had even hit the ground Warrick was back up, arm slipping around Nick's waste once more, and they were off. He paused just long enough to grab Evelyn's hand and help her up to her feet before they continued down the hallway.

"We're almost there." Evelyn whispered between quick gasps for air. She hurried forward and they turned down another long hall. She stopped, and quickly unlocked one of the doors that were preventing them from going any further. Just as Warrick pushed through the door he noticed another man at the end of the hall wielding a gun. He swore and pushed Nick down to the ground, and quickly tried to follow suit.

Merely seconds after the sound of the gunshot registered in his head he felt a sharp pain in his arm. Warrick wasn't sure if his cry was out of pain or surprise as he let himself fall to the tile floor with his right hand immediately following his instinct to put pressure on the wound. His eyes looked down, but before he could even feel relief over the fact that it had just grazed him he heard something metal rolling on the tile floor.

Nick was the first to see the metal canister, and he swore to himself when he saw the gas starting to be released. He didn't make it two feet before he collapsed to the floor. The last thing he saw was Warrick's eyes go wide before he too fell over, and he caught a brief glimpse of Evelyn starting to wobble before all he could see was the gas around him. It wasn't long before everything slowly faded to black.

Grissom's eyes went wide when he saw the swarm of officers trying to get inside the school. He could see from the flashes of various guns that there were at least six gunmen on the upper floors shooting down at the officers. Two police cars were on fire, one had been flipped completely over. Then their eyes took in the Denali. The lettering on the side that would normally have identified it was charred, flames were licking at the vehicle that was now on its side.

"Oh my God." Was all Sara could muster when they saw a brief flash and a rocket was sent propelling into another squad car. They watched in horror as the two officers behind the vehicle took off running, just barely making it behind another squad car when their own vehicle was sent flying into the air engulfed in a massive inferno.

Neither one was sure they wanted to know how bad the situation was inside the school. All they could do was pray that Nick and Warrick were still alive, and safe somewhere in the building.

Brass raced up the stairs. His gun poised, ready to fire and take down anyone that got in his way. He didn't hesitate to fire, and take down the two men in the hall at the top of the stairs. The shots from the front of the school easily drowning out those of his pistol. He quickly checked the hall before beginning to move once more. When he came to the first room he peered in through the glass window in the door, and noted the two gunmen firing down at the front of the school.

He didn't even pause before his gun was up and he had fired to shots right through the small window. The first gunman plummeted out the broken window, the second merely fell to the floor, his hands dropping the gun and trying to clutch at his neck where the bullet had entered.

Once Brass was certain there was no one else hiding in the room he moved on down the hall, making sure no one was trying to sneak up on him. He hadn't actually killed anyone since Bell had died, and he had always hesitated to pull out his own gun. But, when it came to Nick and Warrick, two men he viewed as something of a mix between nephews and his sons things were different. He would do anything to keep them safe, and that meant he needed to make sure more officers got inside the building.

Nothing was going to stop him from making sure Nick and Warrick would make it back to the lab in one piece. There'd be hell to pay if someone got in his way.

To Be Continued…

Notes: Sorry it's taking so long to post these, but I'm betting with everything going on around here, it could be another week before I get the next chapter posted. Hope it was worth the wait, and that you all are enjoying the story. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, and I hope you take a few moments to send me your thoughts on this chapter as well.


	9. Rising Panic

**What A Beautiful Mess**

Everything was hazy. His eyes couldn't focus.

When he tried to move a spasm of familiar pain echoed through his right arm. Nick tentatively tried moving once more except this time the burning in the arm was accompanied by a sharper pain in his wrists. That was when things started to become more lucid. He could feel the all too familiar plastic clamping both wrists together behind his back.

Realizing he was in the back of a moving vehicle only made it worse. Panic was rising, and quickly becoming uncontrollable. His breathing quickened, and he fought to try and take deep, even breaths. It only worked for a few seconds before his quick, shallow gasps for air returned.

Knowing it was useless didn't stop him from pulling on his restraints as hard as he could. The plastic was tearing into the skin on his wrists, and even when it started to bleed he couldn't make himself stop. Tears started overflowing, mixing with the fresh sheen of sweat on his face.

Nick almost screamed when he felt someone grab his hand. Then he realized the grip was familiar, and he remembered the amount of time Warrick had spent holding his hand in the hospital. "W-Warrick?" His voice was shaky, but right then it didn't matter.

"I'm here, bro. You're okay, you're gonna be okay." Warrick whispered through gritted teeth. His arm ached, but there wasn't the slightest chance he was going to succumb to the pain. After all, Nick had been shot in the arm and the leg, not just grazed by a bullet. And if Nick had made it as far as he did after that then he knew he'd do his best. Nick wasn't going to go through this alone.

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Paul looked at the empty space before him. The spot for the spare tire was empty, and he let out an irritated sigh. When he stood back up and turned around his jaw dropped. He didn't even get the chance to scream before he felt the sudden spasm of pain in his gut. Both hands immediately clutched his already bloodied shirt, and he stared at the young woman in shock as she pushed him back into the trunk. Before he could even cry out she had stuffed a cloth in his mouth and slammed the top down.

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The situation at the school had begun to settle. The building was swarming with officers. But that wasn't what had Brass concerned. There were three people missing, and no real sign of where they were. The last he had heard the final count was seventeen gunmen dead, and three officers that hadn't made it. There were another six officers on their way to Desert Palms.

He definitely didn't want to be the one who would have to break the news to the rest of the nightshift. No sooner than the thought had entered his mind that he saw Grissom and Sara heading right for him. _This can't be good…_

"Where are they?"

It was the question Brass had been dreading. Except he didn't even need to answer Grissom's question. Both CSIs knew the answer as soon as they saw the look on his face.

Sara turned away, focusing he attention on the floor. Tears fell, and she quickly wiped them away. She wasn't ready for something more to happen; especially to Nick. Her only source of comfort was the fact that Warrick was with him, and that the now missing theater director was probably with them as well.

Grissom wasn't so confident that they'd be okay. He still saw images of the knife being thrust into the wound on Nick's arms. If the cases were connected he didn't want to know what such sadistic people could do. He hoped that they weren't used against each other.

"I'm going to call Catherine- she should be home by now. Sara why don't you call Paul, and then try Greg. Tell them to get down here."

Sara nodded, and quickly pulled out her cell phone. Without another word to either man she turned and waited as the phone rung. Once she heard Paul's voicemail take over she left a quick message.

Grissom had his own phone out. He waited for anyone to answer, and after a few more rings he was getting nervous.

"H-hesso…" It was the last thing he had expected to hear, even from Lindsey. Her voice was quiet, almost weak.

"Lindsey? Lindsey- are you okay?" His voice grew more urgent as she began muttering incoherently. "Lindsey- _don't_ go anywhere. I'm on my way." He didn't like the way her mumbling sounded like she was trying to tell him something. Except he couldn't make anything of the odd 'words' she was saying.

Sara glanced over at Grissom. His worried tone was rattling her nerves even more, and she could feel her hands starting to shake. "Greg?"

"Yeah, Sara- what do you need?"

"Get down here to Butterfield Academy. Nick and Warrick are missing. See if you can catch Paul on his cell phone while you're on your way."

"Alright. Be careful- I'll be there as soon as I can." Greg answered already making his way out of the lab when he hung up. He had just reached his Denali when he heard Sofia call out to him.

"Greg! I need you, they just found Paul's Denali crashed off the side of the road. Officer on site found blood at a pull off only a few hundred yards from where his vehicle was found."

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"Captain- they've found a body. He had a school ID card- name is Luke Wilson. One of the custodians here at the school. Shot twice in the back of the head. There are four officers down there now. It's just past the Gym Lobby, in the Coach's office."

Brass didn't waste any time before taking off towards the lobby, following the other officer closely. Sara was close on his heels. His gun was still in hand, and his heart was racing. A lot of men had died, and he didn't like knowing that so many of them had been taken down by his gun. Killing another human being was never easy, even though he hadn't flinched when pulling the trigger it didn't stop his heart from going out to the poor families that would be attending the funerals just because they got themselves into a load of trouble.

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Grissom drummed his fingers nervously on the steering wheel. Two members of their team were already missing, and the thought that something might have happened to Catherine was making his head ache. It had been quite a while since he had had a full blown migraine. And he was hoping that he could make it at least a full year before he had another one.

When he pulled up in front of the well kept house a sense of relief washed over him. Catherine's SUV was in the driveway, as was her mother's car. The fact that the front door was closed was also a good sign. Grissom took a few deep breaths before jumping out of his Denali and racing across the lawn towards the door.

He caught a glimpse inside one of the living room windows where the blinds hadn't closed all the way. When he saw Lindsey lying on the floor next to a phone his heart stopped.

Without a second thought he kicked the door open, and raced inside.

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Greg followed Sofia closely as they moved towards the busted up Denali. Both had their flashlights out and were looking around the outside of the car as they moved closer. They were relieved when they noticed there was no blood anywhere on or near the car. Greg carefully opened the driver's side door and began to dust the steering wheel for prints. He didn't even notice as Sofia lowered herself to the ground and peered under the vehicle, hoping there'd be some evidence of what might have gone wrong with the vehicle.

"I won't be getting any usable print off this car. You got anything under there, Sofia?"

"I, uh, I don't know for sure." She paused swing her flashlight back over the bottom of the vehicle, glad she could do it while only crouching down. Then she saw it. A little black box. A box that definitely didn't belong on the bottom of a vehicle. "Greg, get the hell away from here, now!" She nearly screamed before leaping back up to her feet and running as fast as she could back towards her own vehicle. A quick glance over her shoulder showed that Greg was almost right behind her.

They hadn't gotten more than a few yards away before the entire thing exploded. Flames shot into the air, the car flew over landing upside down, the bright orange cloud of fire brightening the night sky. Both were thrown clear off their feet, and she briefly saw the dirt beneath her before everything went dark.

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Warrick stared at Evelyn, glad she was still out of it. The last thing either of them needed was for her to wake up and lose every bit of sanity that she had left. He couldn't help but note that Nick needed to be around calm, collected people. While he wouldn't pretend not to be scared he was going to be strong. Of course it helped that Nick had calmed down considerably after their hands had joined.

Tears started to fall silently. He had the comfort of knowing he wasn't all alone. Of only having been grazed by a bullet. Warrick knew he wouldn't be under so much control if he was alone. It was beginning to become easier for him to understand just what Nick had been feeling all those times he had been hurt, and placed in the middle of danger.

Fear was starting to drown him, the knowledge that cases like this never ended well for anyone involved didn't help. He couldn't handle another day of Nick being in a coma, nor could he bear seeing his best friend sent back to square one. Warrick wasn't even sure if he could handle the situation emotionally, himself.

It sure as hell wouldn't be easy.

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Nick bit down on his bottom lip. He wouldn't cry anymore. He could feel that all four hands that were clinging together were shaking, and it hurt him, just as deeply as the knife had, to know he had placed his friend in this position. It was the guilt that motivated him though. Just as it had in the school; Nick knew that he had to get them out of this mess. Even if it meant that he didn't. His friend's life was undoubtedly something he'd sacrifice himself for.

Warrick had definitely earned that much from him. His friend had always been there, though they certainly had their own fair share of fights. There was absolutely nothing that could keep them apart. And, though it made him feel even more guilty, he had to admit to himself that he was grateful he wasn't alone. With his own brother at his side he knew he'd be able to have the strength and fight back. Nick silently swore that he wouldn't give up.

He'd rather die than let his own friends down.

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Grissom had immediately called the paramedics when he couldn't wake Lindsey. He was overjoyed to find that she wasn't having any trouble breathing, and he had a bad feeling it was going to be one of a very few relieving moments of the night. While he desperately wanted to search the rest of the house he knew that he couldn't really leave her all alone.

In the end, he knew he had to stay with her. It's what Catherine would have undoubtedly wanted him to do. He just hoped it wouldn't be a decision that he'd come to regret. So he knealt beside her, gently running his fingers through her smooth blonde hair. And he prayed that she would be okay.

It wasn't long before his instincts took over, and his eyes began scanning the living room for any signs as to what had happened. There was nothing. A single lamp was knocked over, but seeing that it had been right next to the phone he wouldn't have been surprised if the light had been knocked over by Lindsey. Otherwise there wasn't the slightest bit of evidence to suggest a struggle had taken place in the house.

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"They're here, sir."

"Good. Bring the two of them to the roof when I give you the go ahead. But I want to give them a little more time to think."

"John is already on his way with the other three. What do you wish for us to do with them?"

"There's still construction on the eighth floor. Why don't you place Mr. Stokes and the lovely Ms. Richards there. We may just have some use of them. Place Mr. Brown in a separate room. Give him a taste of our other empty box next to Officer Peterson. What is the status on the others?"

"Miss Freeman has called in. Paul Davenport has been taken care of. She is on her way to confirm that Greg Sanders is already dead. Mr. Fisher is on his way in right now, once he's delivered them to us he'll take care of the others."

"She seems to have a good handle on things. Tell Melissa to go after Sara Sidle. John can have the honors of eliminating Dr. Grissom."

"Yes sir."

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She wasn't sure what exactly it was in her gut telling her to move, but it had worked in the past. It was a few excruciating seconds before her head stopped spinning and she managed to stand up on her own two feet. As soon as her vision cleared she turned back and saw Greg still lying on the ground. Something inside her told her that they needed to get as far away from the site as possible.

Without even giving Greg the chance to fully wake up she had his arms slung around her shoulder and used all her strength to haul him up to the Denali they had taken to the scene. Once she had lifted Greg up and into the middle seat she was glad that it hadn't been any of the other guys on the team.

"Listen to me, Greg- ya gotta stay down. All right? Just stay down."

It wasn't until she was sure they were safe on the highway before she turned to check on Greg. He was shaking slightly, but his eyes were open, and he was obviously struggling to stay calm as she drove. Not that she could blame him. If she hadn't had a death grip on the steering wheel she knew that her own hands would probably be shaking uncontrollably.

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Sara hadn't spent much time in the small room, before she knew there wouldn't be any evidence to be found. David was on his way there, but she doubted even the coroner would find anything to help them out. And it certainly wouldn't help them find Nick or Warrick.

Which was how she found herself essentially following the trail of bodies and bullet holes through the halls just past the library. There were cops everywhere, but she still had her gun in hand. It was a while before she reached the closed doors. She could see the essentially deserted hallway beyond the doors where there were even more officers.

She noticed the keys still in the lock and quickly took a few photos before bagging them. That when she noticed the blood. It wasn't much and just as she leaned down to swab it she saw a few more drops a few feet away. She followed it as far as she could until she reached a door that led outside.

"Hey! I need an escort here!" No sooner than she had called out there were three officers at her side, and with a quiet thanks she followed the first one outside. "Alright, just be careful- there's a trail of blood here, and I don't want anyone accidentally stepping in it."

She was thankful that the blood was still surprisingly fresh. It meant that whoever it had come from hadn't been there very long ago. They came to a stop in a small parking lot and she noticed that there were several sets of matching tire treads on the pavement. Without a word she began to take more photos, hoping that they were getting closer to finding their friends.

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Nick didn't have the energy to struggle as they carried him through several long twisting hallways. Light after light passed over his head, and before long it was little more than a blur. When his vision finally cleared he realized he was being taped to a chair, just across from Evelyn. His eyes searched frantically for any sign of Warrick, but there were none.

The fact that he could move even a fraction of an inch was already making him panic, and he didn't like the looks of the room around them. None of the walls were finished, plastic sheets hung around the walls, holding the insulation in place. When he heard Evelyn groan quietly he bit down on his lip, willing himself to calm down.

He was going to break down this time.

_I swear I'm gonna get you guys out of here._

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**To Be Continued…**

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Notes: I start school tomorrow, so updates may slow down a bit. That or they may pick up, cause last year I actually worked more on more stories after school than I have this summer. Either way, hope you enjoyed this chapter. I already have most of the story planned out, and I'm thinking it'll be fifteen chapters total. Thanks for the reviews, and I hope you take the time to tell me your thoughts on this chapter.


	10. Pieces of the Puzzle

**What a Beautiful Mess**

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She was terrified. Her entire life was devoted to teaching kids, trying to give them the ability to go on and become whatever they wanted to be. She had been motivated to take the job at Butterfield Academy because though it was a private school, most of the students there had problems.

The last time she had even seen a gun had been when her father would go out hunting. Now she was surrounded by them. Evelyn had never really even seen blood before, and the sight of countless masked men being shot had been terrifying. She wasn't even quite sure if she had been grateful when she lost consciousness.

Her head was still spinning slightly, but the dizziness was beginning to fade. She found herself suddenly focusing on Nick. Their eyes met, and she could see the terror in his face. Memories of the news reports from just half a year ago played through her mind. She had respected him already when Lindsey had come to her, asking to dedicate a special performance to him.

Of course she had never understood. She had never been able to comprehend how horrible it must have been. And now she was getting firsthand experience; something she would have much rather done without.

They were both tied to similar chairs. Their hands and feet were secured by a coarse rope, and the metal seats offered no hope of them being able to break free. Nick desperately tried to loosen his bonds. When he failed he instead decided to focus on his breathing. The sight of Evelyn tied up, facing him, made him freeze. Suddenly his eyes were scanning the room, searching for any signs of Warrick. Only the only thing he could see were four unfinished walls.

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Warrick hadn't remembered passing out a second time. He could distinctly remember the fear that had overcome him when their hands had been forced apart. The fear in Nick's eyes before everything had turned black was once more replayed in his mind. He tentatively opened his eyes, not entirely sure of what he'd find. When he realized he wasn't tied down he immediately tried to sit up, only to hit his head.

Eyes quickly widened with realization. Terror clenched his heart, and he quickly tried to slow his breathing back down. He had never expected to be able to know even slightly what Nick had been through over the past year. Only when his hands touched against the cool Plexiglas, and his breath fogged up the reflection of himself, it became impossible to truthfully stay calm.

Warrick kicked and screamed, trying with all his might to make the latched glass lid over him come open. He wanted out more than anything in his entire life. The pain in his arm was completely forgotten, and he started banging against the smooth glass, leaving behind long streaks on the once perfectly clear surface. It was impossible for him to even imagine what his best friend, his own brother, had gone through when he had been buried alive.

He had never really thought about he realized now. Not once had he come even close to imagining how terrifying it truly was, and he wasn't even underground. Had he been able to think clearly he would've pondered why it scared him so much, when he had never been claustrophobic. Then, inevitably his thoughts managed to fully center around Nick.

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Grissom let out an immediate sigh of relief when the paramedics arrived and he didn't waste any time as he bolted through the house, checking every room. He found Lily lying on the bed in the guest room. She was out cold, and he briefly called for the paramedics to check on her before he moved on through the house.

When he had finished he couldn't help but sigh. There had been no real signs of a struggle, and Catherine was definitely not there. Knowing that he was missing three members of his team was unsettling, and he didn't like the fact that they couldn't reach Paul. Grissom was so far lost in his own thoughts that he jumped when his cell phone went off, breaking the silence in the now empty house.

"Grissom."

"It's Sofia. We found Paul's Denali- there was a bomb underneath it. Greg should be okay, we're heading to a hospital now so he can get checked out."

Pieces were starting to fall into place. Except he really didn't like the thought of what he was beginning to think could ever actually happen. But he had to admit, five members of their team had probably already faced death more than once already.

"Sofia, I want you to take Greg to see Doc Robbins. See if he needs more immediate attention, then try to quietly get him into a hospital. Make sure that you or another officer _never_ leaves his side, got it?"

"Yeah, I got it. You mind telling me what the hell is going on though?"

"I think someone is after my team. I'll be back at the lab soon." He hung up. His eyes already scanning the area around Catherine's house. There were officers outside, holding back the crowd of people that were all too intent on knowing what was going on. Realization that any stranger was potentially a threat caused him to bite his lip.

All it would take would be a single bullet. He needed to get back to the lab, and fast.

"Vartann."

"It's Grissom. I need you to get to the station, and fast. You need to find out who that gunman was really working for. His name, is, uh- Vincent Gerard. Do it quietly, but get it done as soon as you can."

"Sure thing, I'll have him brought to the station. You gonna send anyone over to help the interrogation along?"

"I don't know. I have to find Sara. Just be careful."

"You're starting to sound awfully cryptic…" He let his voice trail off, hoping that the nightshift supervisor would explain something of what was going on.

"They're after my team. And I think there's only three of us left."

"Who in the hell are '_they_' Grissom? And what in the hell are they going after all of you for?"

"I gotta go." He didn't wait for an answer. Though he couldn't explain why, his gut was telling him he needed to get moving. Under many circumstances he would've chided himself for being paranoid. Only he kept seeing Nick's bloodied hands pounding on Plexiglas in his mind. He remembered the way Nick had treated him afterwards. How Nick had forgiven him.

So he followed his instincts. Without a word he half walked-half ran out to his waiting Denali. He hadn't forgotten what had happened to Greg and Sofia, and as quickly as possible checked the bottom of the vehicle for any sign of an explosive. Finding none he quickly climbed in and started the ignition. Just as he was pulling out of Catherine's driveway he fished his phone back out of his pocket and began dialing one of six familiar numbers.

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"John is already on his way to take care of Dr. Grissom, Sir."

"Good, keep me updated. We'll give our guests a little more time to let the panic settle in. Perhaps you would be so kind as to give our dear Mr. Brown some more light. It'd be a terrible shame to not be able to recreate the full experience to the best of our abilities."

"Right away Sir. What will we do with Mr. Braun, and his daughter?"

"We'll take care of them soon enough. Leave them locked in the art gallery for now. Have the screen in the room start playing the live feed we have positioned over Mr. Brown."

"Yes Sir."

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"I wonder how long we'll be here…" She offered weakly. They had been waiting in silence for what had felt like hours, though they both knew it had only been a matter of minutes.

"Who knows…" Nick answered quietly. He doubted that he would admit it, but he found the very thought of idle small talk slightly comforting. It helped keep his mind going; it kept him from shutting down completely.

"Y-your friends… though… they have to know by now don't they? I mean- they'll be looking for us, right?"

"Yeah- yeah they will be. And they haven't let me down yet."

"I, uh, maybe this isn't the best time yet, but I want to thank you… and apologize-"

"Don't." Nick answered firmly, but he gave her a soft smile, that he hoped was reassuring. "You didn't do anything wrong. Just the wrong place wrong time- believe me, I know that feeling. Just don't start blaming yourself, alright? It won't do ya any good when we get out of this."

"H-how do you do it?" She asked, her eyes trying to take in the man across from her.

"What do you mean?" Nick answered carefully, not sure where she was heading with everything.

"You're just… you're _incredible_. I can't think of a single other person who would still be so optimistic, even if they'd even seen a fourth of what you have. Just saying _when_… and not _if_- it makes a difference. You're… you're a good man, Nick."

"It's nice to know that someone who isn't family thinks so."

"What about your team?"

"They're a part of my family."

"And you're telling me no one else thinks that you're a great guy? You've gotta be kidding me."

"I think I've met a single woman that cared about who I was, and we never even got the chance to go out on a date. It's just… it's hard to meet people who care about more than anything deeper than my skin. Then again… I don't have a whole lot to offer. Besides, what could someone like you see in a guy like me?" He finished with a sad, self-deprecating smile.

"Apparently a whole hell of a lot that you don't give yourself credit for."

Nick couldn't hold back the quiet, halfhearted laugh. "Thanks, I, uh, I needed…"

"Hey- I just-"

"No, I mean thanks for just talking. I… I'm scared out of my mind right now… and not knowing where Warrick is- it hurts, and it scares the shit out of me, ya know? He's my best friend. I wouldn't have even made it this far without him and Catherine."

"We'll get out of this, Nick."

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"It'll take me some time, but I think I can get both of you cleaned up, and taken care of."

Greg nodded weakly in response as he allowed David to guide him to one of their more comfortable chairs. He then rolled him back to where the others were waiting patiently.

Sofia was helping the Doc setup something of a cot. Not even a minute later he was already cleaning the cuts on Greg's face and neck, while trying to make it as painless and as comfortable as he possibly could. Meanwhile David was working on one of the worst cuts Sofia had received.

"Well, looks like you two were lucky."

"Yeah, guess we were Doc. Listen once David, uh, finishes cleaning this cut I'm gonna go and check with someone about this case."

"I need to start working on IDing some of the gunmen that we got cleared. I'll be back soon." David answered quietly, while he worked to finish the bandage.

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Sara quickly finished processing the lot. There hadn't been much in the way of evidence, but she could at least confirm that tire treads if she was lucky. And she needed to find out whose blood it was that she had collected. Without a word she started heading back towards the school, two officers flanking her.

Normally she would've been irritated by the feeling that people thought she needed someone to babysit her. Not knowing where anyone else on the team was anymore was taking its toll. No one was answering their phones, and it was constantly making her more nervous.

Not even half an hour later she was back at the Lab, and had already dropped off her samples with the various techs. Sara quickly checked her cell and sighed. She wanted someone to call, anyone, so that she knew they were okay. After trying each number she sighed in frustration. Only Grissom's phone had actually rung. The others had all gone straight to voicemail.

It was her frustration that forced her to keep working. Her eyes scanning the various pictures. If there had been anything useful she would have been grateful. It would be hours before the tests were completed, which was how she found herself heading towards the morgue. She knocked once on the door that led to Doc Robbins, and David's office.

The last thing she had expected to see was Greg lying on a cot with the coroner going over a stack of paperwork nearby. "What the hell?"

"Sara-"

"Is he okay?" She asked immediately. The fact that he wasn't in a hospital scared her, but it also made her feel relieved that it must not have been too serious. She was extremely glad to find that at least one other member of their team was okay.

"He'll be fine, listen- you can't tell anyone he's here. Paul is missing; someone planted a bomb under his Denali. Sofia just left to meet up with Vartann at the station. We've been trying to get through to you and Grissom."

"I was trying to get a hold of him too."

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He didn't even realize that his cell phone was on vibrate. He couldn't see or hear the small device on that had fallen to the floor by the passenger's seat. Grissom's sole focus was on the vehicle in front of him. It had taken a few moments to notice the van just down the block from Catherine's home, but once he had seen it he had started to formulate a plan.

Which was why he was sitting in Vega's car, following the van from a distance. Another officer had driven his Denali into a private parking garage. It had been a complicated switch, but they had pulled it off. All either man could hope for was that the van was heading towards their missing friends.

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Catherine took several glances around the gallery. It was full of old, unfamiliar Japanese relics, yet she had the feeling she had seen them before. Her eyes glanced around the room, trying to determine where they might be. A quick look at Sam had confirmed he wasn't going to be much help.

"You already know where we are- don't you Sam?"

"And what if I do, Mugs?"

"Damn it. Just tell me."

"Ty Caulfield."

Recognition hit her. The strange way he had acted at the party. The way he had spoken about Sam, about her, it seemed too obvious.

"_Your father and I are something of… business adversaries."_

She had a distinct feeling that it was a serious understatement. But more pieces just kept falling into place. She remembered the false items that had been brought into the lab. It wouldn't be unlikely that this man had hired Donovan in the first place. Catherine wondered just who all was a pawn in this ongoing game. Though she had no idea how it all could connect to the death of an innocent child.

"_And your team is being dealt with."_

She was too scared fully think of what that might mean. She just prayed that they were all okay still. If something had happened to them she doubted she'd ever be able to forgive herself. One of the few things that was certain was that Catherine knew a lot of guilt would be spread amongst all of them before it was all over.

"What is he doing this for, Sam?"

Before he had the chance to answer the large screen on one of he walls that had silently been playing a documentary on Japanese art went black. Seconds later it was replaced by an image of Warrick lying in what was a clear replica of Nick's own coffin. She instantly flashed back to the warehouse. She remembered how bloody her hands had gotten when she'd performed CPR on Nick. _They've already got Warrick… they could have Nick too by now… Please let the others be okay. They have to be._

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They froze when the person entered the room. Both Nick and Evelyn had continued talking, as if they were having a normal conversation over a cup of coffee. It had kept both from suffering a panic attack, and it had given Nick the chance to relax his now aching leg. His right arm had long since gone numb from the awkward angle it was being held at.

Their eyes never fully left the others. It was the only way they could even slightly connect, and both needed it far more than they would ever admit. Nick couldn't help but flinch when he felt the gloved hand brush along his cheek. Neither one of them actually saw the fist as it connected with Nick's eye, forcing his head to turn sharply.

One hand silently lifted his shirt a few inches, and he bit his lip to keep from crying out. He felt gloved fingers running over the scar on his side. Then in a matter of seconds the shirt was back down, and the man's fist connected with his side, exactly where the glass shard had embedded itself six months ago. The sudden added pain brought out a loud cry, and he lowered his head.

He didn't want either his attacker, or Evelyn to see the tears building up in his eyes. Nick knew he wouldn't be able to handle much. It wouldn't take many strikes to break him after everything else that he had been through. He just hoped that he'd get the chance to make things right again.

"They're almost ready for him on the roof." Another voice announced, and just as quickly the masked man left the unfinished room. Once more leaving Nick and Evelyn alone to cope with the situation, and to wonder what was going to happen to them.

"A-are you okay?"

"We're gonna make it through this."

It was all he could say. The mantra that he kept repeating to himself, hoping that the mere repetition might make it true.

_They won't win. Not this time. I'm gonna find a way- I have to._

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To Be Continued…

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Notes: I think there will be a total of fifteen chapters by the time I'm done, just like 'Crimson Puddles', but I'm not entirely sure. School has actually gotten me writing a bit more frequently on my free time, but I've also got a whole boatload of other stories in the works. I'm about halfway done with a shorter one, so you might be seeing it soon. There'll be a lot of action in the next chapter, so thanks for all the reviews on past chapters, and the support has helped keep me motivated on not only this story, but on my others as well.

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	11. Falling into Place

**What a Beautiful Mess**

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Catherine didn't bother to fight back as the two masked men in suits led her down a long hallway. She wanted to be ready at a moment's notice, and if there was a chance to escape she definitely didn't want to be too bruised up to be successful. And it was even more important since she knew that Warrick was suffering through hell. He had probably been with Nick, and that meant Nick could also be suffering. It scared her well out of her mind, yet it also provided an unknown strength within her that demanded she find a way to help them.

Sam was beside her, his expensive suit only frustrated her more. The feeling in her gut told her that this was most likely just about money. She had learned a long time ago that it wasn't money that made life worthwhile.

It had been something of a hard lesson to learn. But, in the end, it had been Nick who had taught her, and Nick who had always proven the lesson to be true. Her thoughts revolved around her family. About who would take care of Lindsey if this situation got any worse. The girl had already lost one parent, and the thought of her becoming an orphan was almost too much to handle.

Then she thought about the team, her second family. Although she had to admit that at many times the term was almost ironic, because with the exception of Lindsey she was closer to the people she worked with than anyone else in her biological relatives. Images of Nick, Warrick and Grissom flooded her mind, even images of Greg and Sara were present. She loved each of them in their own way.

And Catherine knew that that was what made life worth living.

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Warrick couldn't stop the tears. He was completely disgusted with himself. It sickened him that he was so weak, when Nick had gone through so much more. And he found once more that he was amazed by his brother. Only a short time had passed agonizingly slow since he had woken up. He wasn't even coming close to twelve hours, let alone twenty some odd hours. And he certainly wasn't on the verge of bleeding to death.

He had never been shot before, and in all reality he had never really been in danger while on the job. No one had ever targeted him. No one had ever tried to kill or abduct him before. Warrick suddenly found himself realizing for the first time just how terrified Nick must have been all those times. And the current stinging pain shooting through his arm only served to sicken himself further.

He had tried to put himself in Nick's shoes. Warrick had been desperate to understand the deep-rooted pain his friend was suffering from. Now he realized that he had never come close to even slightly understanding his friend's suffering. There was no way he ever should have expected Nick to ever get better, especially not after a mere six months. He had a feeling he'd be suffering through nightmares for years.

Then he looked to the sides, trying to see the room he was in. His heart practically stopped when he saw the second coffin. Someone was inside, lying still. Fear that it was Nick almost overtook him completely. Then he noticed the clothes. Definitely not something Nick had worn in a while. The man was wearing a short sleeved shirt for one. It wasn't Nick. The only other possibility he could think of was that it was that it must have been Officer Peterson.

A slight movement proved the other man was still alive. It wasn't exactly comforting, but it was offering more hope than he had thought possible. Once he realized that his arm was still bleeding he carefully tore off a large strip of his shirt. With only the slightest bit of hesitation he wrapped the fabric around his arm, and used his teeth to tighten the knot. It was awkward, and made the pain in his arm flare up, but after another few intense moments it began to fade away once more.

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Evelyn had grown constantly more nervous once they had forcefully dragged Nick out of the room, moving far too quickly for him to be able to keep up. She was all alone, without even the slightest comfort of someone else there. Fear that had previously been quelled just by the sight of a familiar face was now assaulting her full force.

She kept her eyes open, trying to see everything she could in hopes that it would keep her guard up. It would also hopefully keep anything from truly surprising her. Knowing that people could be more than just monsters only made things far worse. She remembered the news reports, the stories and gossip she had heard about what Nick had gone through. It was pain she already knew she'd never be able to handle.

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Nick waited in silence as they stood silently in the elevator. It took all his strength just to remain standing after practically being dragged to the small compartment he was in. He immediately noticed that it was a service elevator, and found himself trying desperately to stay calm as they two guards pulled out their guns.

Suddenly the elevator was too cramped, and the walls around him may as well have been made of Plexiglas. It was a full minute before his breathing came anywhere near to evening out. His mind was racing nonstop about what was going to happen; the pain still radiating in his leg just serving to make the situation far worse.

Soon enough the elevator stopped, and to his complete dismay the doors never slid open. The guards just stood there, weapons ready for anything. A quick glance down showed that his entire body was trembling. No matter how hard he tried it just wouldn't stop, his hands refused to stay steady. Unwanted images filled his head, full of blood, ants and Plexiglas.

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Catherine eyed the rooftop cautiously, somewhat surprised that it wasn't terribly windy. Her dress fluttered silently in the wind as she was led to a table set up for three people. Sam took a seat beside her. Across from them there was another chair that was still empty.

Just behind them was a narrow catwalk that led out onto an open helipad that was suspended out over the plaza in front of the casino far below. The entire city of Las Vegas spread out all around them, the shimmering lights creating a view that was unmatched by any other city in the world.

Except neither of them could enjoy that view. Catherine's eyes kept falling on the single chair that was set away from the others. It was in the middle of the small walkway that led right to the landing platform. After everything that had happened she knew it wasn't just for show.

Then one of the doors swung open, and her heart leapt as anxiety coursed through every part of her body. It was finally here, the cataclysm that would hopefully lead to the end of this terrible nightmare that they were all caught up in.

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She had just been walking to the lab. The front doors were right there in front of her. Vartann was right beside her. Then it hit her, she could feel the sudden jab in her back, followed soon by two more. The glass doors shattered, but she was already falling to the ground. A pair of strong arms caught her and she stared into the detective's eyes as realization sunk in of what had just happened.

There were bullet holes in the wall opposite the front doors. She could feel the strong arms picking her up, and hastily carrying her inside. Sara closed her eyes, willing for everything to magically fall into place. The interview had gone badly, resulting only in wasted time. Meanwhile, everyone was missing except for herself and Greg.

Once Vartann had set her down onto the second cot in Robbin's office that had been set up as hurriedly as they could. As soon as she felt the soft fabric beneath her she shrugged off her bulletproof vest and examined the two bullets that had nearly pierced the kevlar. So far as the rest of the world knew, she was dead.

"Here, take the bullets to Bobby, try not to say anything. If people think that both Greg and myself are dead… well, we have a better chance of staying alive."

She was glad the pieces seemed to be coming together more thoroughly now. While the information that someone was trying to wipe out their team was disturbing, it also gave them a better chance to make the best of their own hand that they had been dealt.

Robbins entered the room solemnly, and he nodded briefly to Sara. "So, I hear that you've died recently."

"Yeah, apparently so." She answered before taking a glance at a still sleeping Greg.

"Well, I brought down the case file, and all the evidence I could get without raising any suspicion. Hopefully you'll be able to make something more of this before this situation gets even more out of hand."

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"Both targets have been taken care of. I'm on my way back now."

"Good. Your presence has been requested on the roof when you return. The Boss is looking forward to congratulating you."

"It'll be my pleasure." She answered before snapping the phone in half. Her eyes glanced at the rearview mirror, and she couldn't help but smile. She was moving up quickly in ranks now.

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Vega pulled to a stop outside the casino. The van was literally nowhere to be seen, and so the detective began to circle around the blocks, hoping to find some trace of where the van might have gone. Grissom kept his eyes moving constantly, not willing to miss anything that passed around them on the fairly empty street.

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"Ms. Willows, it's a pleasure to see you again, and so soon. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for your father."

"Why are you doing this? Do you _really_ think that you can get away with whatever the hell it is you're trying to pull off here?"

"Well, I could go off in a traditional spiel of my evil plans, but really, how over-dramatic would that be? I just thought we could enjoy your last meal here."

"What do you want with my daughter?" Sam spoke this time, his anger well contained.

"I want to make you suffer."

"This won't get you up into the big games, son. You'll always be at the kiddy table in this town, so there isn't any point in trying to make that change by killing anyone. Besides, you kill me, and there won't be a single safe place in this world for you to even spend the night."

Catherine glanced at Sam in surprise. The cold tone, the one he had used only once in front of her when ordering a poor college kid around as payback, struck her harder than she had expected. The doubt she had about him was back, in full force, and she swore she could've hit him with everything she had in her.

"On the contrary. I'm already at your table, you just haven't realized it yet. It's a new era, Sam, one that doesn't include the ancient faces such as yourself. By tomorrow all your casinos will be mine, all your property… everything."

"This is a rather big jump for you, Ty. The only illegal activities you've ever been a part of is petty theft. You don't stand a chance against half the people in this city."

"You're one to speak. You're going soft now, in your old age. It's a pity really… after all, I doubt you even have it in you anymore to actually kill. Or was that one showgirl enough? How many others are there?"

"You have no idea what _soft_ is, boy."

Catherine watched them go back and forth, quickly growing sick of the tirades. "What about the boy?"

"_Who_?" Caulfield turned towards her, his eyes narrowing.

"Billy Meyers. Why in the hell did you kill an _innocent_ child?"

"He witnessed something that he shouldn't have. That dumb screw up Wilson didn't make sure he was alone. Then he screwed up again, and I ended up with an unwanted police officer on my hands. So I figured we'd use him to our advantage. Either way, he was a worthless hazard that I simply didn't need."

"You won't get away with this. People will know I'm missing- they'll sure as _hell_ know that Warrick is missing…"

"Doesn't matter. I've got confirmations that both Sanders and Sidle have been eliminated, along with Mr. Davenport. Your supervisor is next. We already have your other two friends here with us now." He smiled cruelly at her, taking pleasure in the clear distress in her eyes. "So you see, I don't have anyone to worry about."

"They aren't the only CSIs in Vegas. There _will_ be evidence, and you won't make it out of this." Catherine answered, her voice firm and belying just how scared the thought of Sara, Greg, and Paul being murdered was. But she knew that she at least owed it to the others to stay strong.

"I'm glad that you're so convinced. But I'm sure seeing an autopsy on your dear friend, Mr. Stokes, will change your mind. Especially when you hear his screams. Perhaps you'll even get the chance to actually see his heart while it's still beating as he dies."

"You son of a bitch!" Catherine screamed, moving to stand up until one of the guards had to force her back down into her seat. As if on cue the elevator doors, on the far side from where Caulfield had come out, slid open.

Nick almost cried out in relief when the doors slid open. The cold blast of fresh air hit him hard, and he took several deep breaths before his arms were jerked forward and he was led out onto the roof. When he saw Catherine he immediately tried to stop his hands from shaking.

He winced when he was forced down onto a chair, and his wrists were tied to the armrests. His eyes met Catherine's, and they silently tried to keep the other from losing what little control they had. Both were looking for any way that they could get themselves off the roof safely.

The moment came right when Caulfield began to speak again. The two guards flanking Nick had stepped forward so they were just barely in front of him.

"Now why don't we have some food, it'd be a shame to for you to have to watch the 'show' on empty stomachs."

Catherine already felt sick, but the thought that in ten minutes or so that Nick could be lying on the table with his chest cut open was almost too much. And knowing that they were running out of time she waited quietly until another man came out and placed several lit candles on the table.

They were running out of time.

Without warning Catherine burst out coughing, pushing her seat back from the table just slightly as she nearly doubled over.

Nick waited just as the guards took a few steps forward. Even though he knew he'd regret it later he kicked out with both legs. Boots met each of the guards' legs just below the knee with enough force to knock both of them off balance, and right over the edge of the building.

The echoing screams wouldn't be forgotten easily, as he realized that two young men had just plummeted to their deaths. Except as he watched Catherine suddenly swing back up, candle in hand he knew that it had been necessary. _There're some things worth dying for, and some things worth killing for. And, if it mean helping to protect my family, then I'll do it._

Catherine flung the candle into the face of the guard behind her. Without hesitating her other hand reached under the table immediately flipping it over onto its side, candles, and the elegant dishes flying everywhere. Before anyone else had a chance to stop her she had raced over to Nick, and was busy trying to untie the rope around one of his wrists, ignoring his pleading for her to get the hell off the roof and to somewhere safe.

Just as she loosened the rope a slight bit she felt the arms trying to wrap around her. Nick was frantically trying to free his hand as he watched Catherine struggle. Further down both Sam, and Ty Caulfield were struggling to stand up. His fear that she was going to fall skyrocketed when he noticed her stumble in her high heels; it was enough for him to keep struggling to free his right arm from the chair. He cried out in horror when he saw the guard take one swing, and easily knocked Catherine off balance.

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Grissom froze at the sight of several armed men breaking into a side entrance to the casino. He remembered the very pool just across from their vehicle where they had found the electrocuted dummy. Only minutes later the two men froze in horror when they distinctly noticed two men fall from the roof.

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Sara headed for the computer. Photos of the rest of the evidence would be in there, and she wanted to check to see what had happened to Officer Peterson. The screen popped up once more, and she was relieved to see the somewhat calm look on his face. Her eyes wandered over the rest of the screen before landing on one of the wooden beams that was supporting the glass box. She noticed a spot on the wood that seemed out of place.

Once she zoomed in she was surprised to see a fuzzy image that looked like a snake. Wishing she was in the A/V Lab Sara zoomed in even more and did her best to clear up the image. She paused at the carving that now looked more like some type of Japanese dragon.

Then she began milling through the various autopsy reports on their victims that had been completed. Most were still unidentified, but she couldn't help but hope that something would turn up soon. She was beyond the point of being anxious. Especially when someone had tried to kill her and Greg. The mere fact that everyone else was missing also upset her, as she tried to take on a positive mindset.

She could almost here Nick saying that there were no bodies. There was that sound of hope in his voice, one she'd pay to hear again. Images of him sitting in a hospital room with the little blonde girl, Cassie, returned.

"_I was rescued."_

She hoped that they'd be able to find another miracle this time around. And then she saw it. One of the gunmen's names glared out at her, telling her that she should recognize it.

_Brandon Miller._

The name was so familiar, but she couldn't place it. She kept seeing pictures of Nick in her mind, some sad, some happy. Then an image of him laughing at some lifeguard's expression came up. It wouldn't go away, no matter how hard she tried to focus on the case at hand.

Then she remembered the CPR Dummy. The expression on the lifeguard's face as he opened his mouth as wide as he could, hands covering both sides of his face. They had been working a case, searching for ten million dollars that belonged to Ty Caulfield.

_That's it. Caulfield… Brandon Miller- they've got to be connected… that's it! He's that security guard… if he's back… Caulfield… he isn't all that well known in Vegas, what if he's been going after Braun? A place with some of the big names in Vegas would be motive enough, and he has enough money to pull something like this off._

"Brass."

"It's Sara."

"What? I just… the lab is saying that you're dead! What in the Hell?" He had been stuck at the school, trying to not only clear the scene, but to make sure everything was getting done correctly. News that both Sara and Greg had died had reached everyone's ears. He was glad that he hadn't actually believed it, but it sure wasn't going to stop him from demanding answers.

"I think I know where the others are! The Golden Dragon- Caulfield's casino. One of the dead gunmen is that security guard from a couple years back that helped steal that ten million dollars."

"That isn't enough to go on Sara…" Brass replied quickly, letting his question remain unanswered.

"The wood beams under Officer Peterson… at least one of them has a Japanese dragon carved into it. That Caulfield guy is into that sort of stuff… a lot of his stuff at that place is supposedly from Japan."

"Alright, it can't hurt to head over there and check things out. I'll meet you there with backup."

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Nick stared wide-eyed as Catherine teetered on the edge and then she was falling. It wasn't even a second before he was up, swinging the chair with his left arm that was still bound to it. It slammed into the guard, sending him reeling back over the opposite edge. He let the momentum of his swing bring him to the cool steel floor. His left arm ached from the sudden weight of Catherine hanging onto the chair, her feet dangling in midair.

Her eyes were wide with terror. She clung tightly to the chair, silently thanking God that Nick had been fast enough to swing the chair down just in time for her to catch it, saving her from falling the rest of the way down to the plaza far below.

Their eyes met, and she could see the pain Nick was in, his arm twisting awkwardly as the chair it was still bound to rocked back and forth.

Seeing his daughter come so close to dying awakened the raging fury in him. He landed a well-aimed fist in Caulfield's face before grabbing up one of the forks on the tile and jabbing it into the remaining guard's cheek. Then he was running out towards the catwalk, as he watched the young man's face scrunch up in obvious pain.

He reached over the edge, and with Nick's help they managed to pull both Catherine and the chair back up. Sam then quickly went to work on freeing Nick's left arm. Blood was running freely from where the ropes had pulled on his wrist. Without hesitating he tore off the sleeve and wrapped it around Nick's wrist, tying it tightly, and hoping that the arm wasn't broken.

Catherine was clinging to Nick as tightly as she could. Her arms wrapped around his chest as they huddled together on the catwalk, relishing the mere fact that they were all alive. It was Nick who finally forced Catherine to let him go, and he offered a weak smile as his right hand found her left. Both were grateful for the mere contact, reassuring both of them that they were still breathing and moving.

Nick quickly led her back onto the main part of the roof. His leg and both arms were aching, but he knew that he still had a job to do. Both Warrick and Evelyn were still somewhere inside the building, and he wasn't about to stop before he found them both. Neither were actually surprised to find that both Caulfield and the other guard were long gone.

He gradually started putting a bit more of his weight on Catherine, and was glad when she wrapped her arm around his waist. Together they made their way to the elevator, and seconds later the glimmering lights of Las Vegas were gone.

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Evelyn wasn't sure if fear was enough to describe it when she heard the door behind her open. And though she knew it probably wasn't wise she closed her eyes as tightly as she could. But when she felt Nick's reassuring hand gently grab hold of her own, she knew that it was safe.

Catherine and Sam went to work untying her as Nick gently stroked her cheek trying to keep her as calm as possible. As soon as her hands were free she wrapped them around Nick, and clung to him in a silent thank you.

"We need to find Warrick." Nick answered, as he helped Evelyn up to her feet. Together they headed for the doorway to begin their search until the sound of gunfire erupted from somewhere on one of the lower levels. Not entirely sure of what that meant they began to move cautiously through the unfinished hallway.

Nick paused at one doorway, and quietly slid the door open. His eyes went wide with fear at the sight of two glass coffins. Both were occupied, but it was the second one that really caught his attention. Fear was forgotten as he burst into the room and raced for the box that held his best friend, and the guilt over everything that had happened to them was beginning to drown him.

"Warrick? I'm gonna get you out of there… just hold on…" He mumbled, not sure if the other man would even want to ever see him again.

_It's all my fault. God… I'm so sorry…_

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To Be Continued…

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Notes: I was going to update yesterday, but then I decided that I wanted to get farther in this story. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'd appreciate any comments/reviews.

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	12. David and Goliath

**What a Beautiful Mess

* * *

**

He had meant to undo the latch. He had meant to push aside the Plexiglas. He had meant to keep his best friend safe.

His hands had had different plans.

They were shaking far too violently to do anything. Tears began to fall faster, and he struggled, trying to grip the latch, his mind telling him repeatedly that he was just screwing up. Guilt was overtaking every corner of his mind, driving him to try even more frantically. Then his eyes met Warrick's.

The trail of tears, the wide eyes, heavy breathing, trembling body only made his own tremors worse. Then his hand moved up, laying flat against the glass. Nick swore that his heart had stopped when he froze, completely unable to move, and unable to even notice that his entire body was shaking violently.

And then Catherine was there. All he saw was a whirl of her hair that shimmered in the blinding light set at Warrick's feet. Then he saw her dress and he slowly backed away as she shoved the lid back, and quickly took hold of the man's hand.

* * *

It wasn't the hand that he had been expecting. He had seen Nick; his entire body had started shuddering with relief that his best friend had found him. Except, now he was holding a hand that definitely belonged to a woman. The ambrosial perfume that filled his nostrils told him at once that it was Catherine. As the tears began to subside, and his vision cleared he could see the golden red hair hovering over him.

It was another few minutes before the gentle, almost porcelain-like face came into focus. He allowed her to help him up, and took in the room that surrounded him. Evelyn was calming the younger officer across the room, rubbing the man's arm softly, as she whispered to him. Sam Braun was merely standing back, watching everyone.

It was a full minute before his eyes found Nick. He had backed himself into the darkest corner in the room, hugging the wall as if he wanted to disappear. His eyes were wide, and there was an expression there that Warrick knew all too well. Guilt, shame, pure terror. It was all in Nick's eyes, written there all too clearly.

When Warrick met his eyes he suddenly found it impossible to keep his own eyes open. Nick tried to hold back the whimper, but cringed when he realized that the sound that had come out was even more pathetic. Tears were still flowing freely as he let himself fall to the floor.

* * *

The click was the only noise they had heard in quite some time aside from the occasional car.

Grissom's head snapped to his side, and his mouth opened in shock when he saw the gun pointed at his forehead. He heard the other door open, and paused slightly as the man wielding the gun quickly swung his own door open and motioned for him to get out of the car. Before long both men were being led into the casino by the front entrance.

His suspicions had been confirmed easily. It hadn't been the CSI who had been driving the Denali. If it had been it would have gone straight back to the Crime Lab. So he had waited around outside after the van had been secured.

John Fisher had been so intent on Grissom that he hadn't seen the men entering the building, nor had he seen the two men fall to their deaths. But just as they entered the casino he did hear the gunshots from one of the floors above.

Vega shot Grissom a hopeful, yet fearful look. Both were scared to death that the two men they had seen fall were Nick and Warrick. Then they had seen what appeared to be a woman in a dress nearly fall as well. It had been a simple malfunction with the radio that had prevented them from calling for backup. Grissom's cell phone had remained completely forgotten.

* * *

Sara had quietly woken the still sleeping Greg. He had been slightly groggy, but when Sara had told him that they might know where the others were he was wide-awake. Together they made their way out of the Lab through the emergency exit doors just past the morgue. They were relieved when the alarm didn't go off.

Minutes later they were racing down the strip in one of the department issued Denalis. Neither one spoke, as they both stared intently on the road in front of them. The sound of sirens wasn't quite enough to completely diffuse their fears that the others weren't okay.

* * *

His body wasn't steady enough for him to get out of the Plexiglas hell on his own. Without hesitating he allowed Catherine to help him up and over the edge of the coffin. Gently shrugging off Catherine's arms he forced his way over to Nick who had curled up into a ball, hiding his face completely.

"Nick… Nick, come on… look at me bro… please- just _look_ at me."

He shook his head slightly in response, not daring to look up. The guilt coursing through him effectively made it impossible to hear the tone of his friend's voice. "Y-you need t-to go. Get them out of here…"

"We're not going anywhere without you."

"I-I'm not worth it. I'm sorry… God I'm so _sorry_ Warrick… this- it's all my fault. I-I deserve whatever they're gonna do to me… please- just go." Nick whispered.

Catherine could feel her heart breaking, as could Warrick. Evelyn was watching from where she sat by Officer Peterson who had begun to calm down. There were tears in her eyes, and both women wished that there was something that they could do. Except everyone in the room knew that this was between Nick and Warrick.

"Come on, _bro_… don't do this to yourself. _Everyone_ in this room is alive right now- because of _you_. And _trust_ me, man- this isn't your fault. You didn't put me in that box, Nick, and I would have gone into that school no matter what you did or said."

Nick let out another strangled sob. He wanted to believe Warrick. He wanted his best friend to be right. But his guilt had long since taken over his mind; his mind telling him that it was his fault. Looking up at Warrick would only serve to further batter his already bruised heart.

Warrick knelt down next to Nick softly. He gently reached out and firmly clasped onto Nick's shoulder before his brother could pull away. The fact that Nick actually flinched hurt, but he knew about how much guilt could hurt. And it was clear that Nick was currently suffering far more than any of them.

"You know something Nick? You told me once that it wasn't my fault that you were buried alive. I know you feel guilty… that you feel ashamed, but it _wasn't_ your fault. Just… just like it wasn't my fault." He stopped to take a deep breath. Warrick had finally done it. He had been able to put what had happened to Nick into words, but even more importantly he had finally let go of the guilt that he had been carrying around for well over a year. With another deep breath he went on. "You're my friend- my brother… I love ya man."

Nick's mind told him to block it out; to treat it as a lie, but he couldn't do it. In the end, he looked up. The look of compassion, and understanding in Warrick's eyes made him cry even harder as he wrapped his arms around his best friend.

* * *

Paul wasn't exactly sure what was happening. Everything was dark, his entire body hurt, and the piercing pain in his gut was only making things worse. He pressed his soaking wet hands back against his chest. It wasn't long before the gentle rocking stopped, and he could hear an engine turning off. It was another few moments before he fully realized what had happened.

Not knowing what else to do he trying weakly pushing against everything around him, blood-soaked hands trailing across carpet and metal. Searching for a way out.

* * *

Grissom didn't know what to do. There was nothing that he could do, and it was beyond frustrating for him. He was used to having some semblance of control, even if it was only minimal. This was an uncomfortable situation for him now. One that he hated terribly.

All he could really do was observe everything around him. His eyes taking in the slightest details, as his mind processed everything that was happening around him at a startlingly rapid pace.

* * *

There was another series of abrupt gunfire. Then essentially they were thrown back into silence.

It was enough for Nick to pull himself together just enough to stop his sobs and the tears. He took a few seconds to wipe his eyes, before standing up, and letting Warrick help him walk towards the door. Catherine took to keeping a comforting arm wrapped around Kyle Peterson, watching both Nick and Warrick carefully.

Sam and Evelyn were the second 'pair' to enter the hallway cautiously once Nick motioned with his hand that it was safe. Catherine helped Kyle, trying to keep his shaking down. She kept glancing over to Nick and Warrick. She admired their friendship, especially the way it seemed capable of withstanding anything thrown their way.

And knowing that they were both relatively okay helped ease her mind. As did the way they seemed to draw strength from each other. Their strength helped her to keep her own emotions and fears well in check. She was going to do her part, and anything it took, for the man that had saved her as long as it meant he'd be safe.

They had just made it down another hallway. The walls were partially finished, and there were already several dark wood doors in place. Everyone could feel the tension begin to ease when they saw the gold doors at the end of the hall, shimmering in the moonlight that was filtering into the otherwise dark space.

It was the elevator. Their escape.

* * *

Archie watched, stunned when he saw the brunette swing into the camera over Officer Peterson's prison. He watched the delicate hands quickly undo the latch, before the lid was pushed away. A brief glimpse of her face was enough for him to try to ascertain an ID from.

The search only took a few brief moments before her name flashed onto the screen along with another photograph. Fear that something terrible had happened to the rest of his team made his head spin. The wild rumors that both Sara and Greg were already dead may as well not have ever been spoken as far as he was concerned. It was a dangerous situation, and he had a feeling in his gut that everything was going to turn out to be just fine.

One of the small lessons in becoming an optimist that Nick had unknowingly taught him.

You never give up on family.

* * *

No one moved when the doors slid open before they had even made it halfway down the hall. A second passed as the two groups merely stared at each other before Nick pushed Warrick through the nearest door. The others followed suit, only heading through another door.

Catherine didn't stop. She was leading the group now, through a series of several unfinished rooms, the plastic coverings on the walls and the rough wood tables and construction material scattered about, giving them all an eerie feeling. They could hear Caulfield's frustrated orders echoing through the entire room, and each of them were intent on making it as far from that voice as they could.

Kyle could feel his instincts kicking back in. His entire body was still shaky, fear coursing through him as they headed through another room. After another few minutes of hurrying through rooms they found themselves in another hallway. No longer sure of where they were they began moving as quietly as possible until they heard the shout behind them.

All four turned their heads just in time to see the man at the end of the hall start to raise his gun. Instinct kicked in, and no one hesitated to run as fast as they could down the hall.

* * *

Nick's eyes scanned the room furtively, searching for anything they could use to defend themselves. When he came up with nothing he followed Warrick through a gap in the wall to another room. Then he saw it. Without pausing he snatched up the staple gun with his right hand, cradling it against his chest to ease the sudden weight.

The two took off again, Warrick making sure that Nick was doing all right. He didn't know what exactly to make of the terribly bruised forearm. But he figured he would find out soon enough. They needed to focus on getting out of the deathtrap they were currently in. Unable to find anything else he snatched up a hammer, figuring that he could at least use it as a club or throw it should push come to shove.

He had to admit that he was both comforted and scared by the fact that Nick was with him. It scared him to think that Nick was in danger, and yet he knew Nick would be the one who'd be able to get them out of this mess. So he would do his best to keep them all alive as well.

The sound of footsteps behind them was anything but comforting. He tried to pick up his pace, but hated himself for the fact that his leg was resisting his efforts to move any faster. A quick glance at Warrick proved that his brother wasn't about to leave him behind to face this alone.

So they kept moving. The sound of gunshots somewhere nearby sent chills down both their spines as they found themselves praying that the others were still alive. When they noticed that the footsteps had stopped there eyes met, unsure as to what that could mean. Nick's breathing was labored, and he would've given nearly anything to just find a soft bed to climb into.

The next room was darker, the few scattered lights, and the moon weren't quite enough to let them see everything. It was more than enough to make them nervous, but the sound of footsteps behind them told him they didn't have much choice.

"I think I've had about enough of you, Mr. Stokes."

Both men froze at the sound of the voice from somewhere ahead of them. They didn't dare to move, Nick quietly set down the staple gun, not entirely sure why his gut was directing him to do so. Warrick took another step forward when the door behind them swung shut, and a few dim lights turned on to reveal a semi completed conference room. The dark wood table was freshly polished, and matched the floors and the few finished wood panels on the walls. There were only a few small chairs around the massive table, and the one at the far end slowly swiveled around to reveal Caulfield.

There was no doubt just how furious the man was.

"I was planning on having my men perform an autopsy on you up on the roof while you were still alive. But… I think it would be far more interesting to do it myself. What do you say Mr. Stokes? Would you like to 'christen' this lovely table?"

"Take another step towards him, and I swear to God I'll kill you." Warrick seethed, his eyes never leaving Caulfield as the man slowly moved closer to Nick.

"I don't think he'll mind dying. The others are already dead. Your friends didn't make it very far before my men found them, and your _other_ friends… well- I don't think too many of your friends will be able to attend your funeral. After all- they've also been eliminated."

Warrick watched as Nick's eyes widened in complete fear. He could see the denial on his face, and knew that his own expression wasn't much better. The door behind them opened once more, and he turned his attention away from Nick for only a moment to see the platinum blonde enter the room. Any other time he might have actually gazed in awe at her almost unrealistically porcelain features.

The gun in her hands belied her gentle beauty. Nick's eyes widened in fear when the gun was pointed at Warrick's head, and Caulfield only smiled as he withdrew a scalpel from his pocket. A brief nod was directed at him motioning for him to move to the table. When he paused the click that had been far too familiar made his heart pound. In complete silence he began to move to the table, praying that some form of luck would come their way.

* * *

Catherine was practically panting when they burst through a metal door and found themselves facing a narrow staircase. After taking a deep breath she led the way down, their shoes clicking softly on the metal steps as they hurried downwards. They had gone down three flights before Catherine led them out of the stairwell, and into another hallway.

This one was finished, the ornate halls lined on each side by solid wood doors. They moved forward, racing for the elevator, Evelyn tentatively pushed the button that would bring it to them, each silently hoping that they'd get a chance to make it out alive. And they were definitely praying that both Nick and Warrick were currently safe.

* * *

Grissom glanced curiously at the numbers, as they stood motionless in the elevator. The two guards shared a curious glance when the elevator apparently stopped a few floors too soon. When the gleaming doors slid open his jaw literally dropped.

* * *

Catherine's eyes went wide, and Kyle immediately swung at the nearest guard. Vega quickly moved to subdue the larger man, but was easily thrown back. Evelyn latched onto his arm that was still holding the gun as Catherine practically climbed onto the man's back, her arms wrapping around his neck. Vega had been knocked out cold, and Kyle was too busy trying to subdue the other gunman that only Sam and Grissom noticed the other guards charge out of a doorway just down the hall.

Evelyn was losing her grip, and not knowing quite what else to do she sunk her teeth into the man's forearm causing him to yelp. Unfortunately it also allowed for him to free his other hand, and bring it crashing down into her shoulder, sending her to the floor.

John was seriously pissed off. Anger flared as he felt her teeth sink into him. It had been a seriously long night, and this was the last thing he wanted to deal with. Having taken care of the brunette he tried to focus his attention on the bigger threat Catherine was posing. The shouting from down the hall caught his attention and he smiled as he realized back up was on the way.

* * *

She hadn't seen the hammer. Warrick waited silently. His eyes followed Nick's despondent movement towards the table, and not knowing what else to do. Hope rekindled in him as Nick forced himself to look up one last time at Warrick.

Their eyes met, and he ever so slightly bobbed his head in the direction of the staple gun that would be in Nick's reach in mere seconds. As soon as Nick was close enough he swung around bringing the hammer crashing down on Melissa's arms. She cried out in surprise as Nick grabbed the staple gun.

Caulfield was on him in an instant, his arms wrapping around Nick's neck, jerking him backwards, and successfully wrenching the weapon free from his grasp, sending it clattering to the floor. Melissa ducked quickly, using her agility to beat Warrick to the gun, but not quite fast enough to keep Warrick from taking hold of her wrist.

They struggled for control, neither one willing to lose control as they watched Nick and Caulfield struggle. Both knew that losing the fight now could result in the death of someone that meant more to them than anyone else. Warrick could lose his brother; Melissa could lose the man that had kept her life from falling apart. It was a fight both were dead set on winning.

Then Caulfield managed to swing Nick around, so they were facing Warrick and Melissa. Nick struggled with his weakened arms, which seared with pain, to break the man's grip around his neck.

Warrick's heart sunk when she managed to twist her arms just so, forcing Warrick down to the ground. With a triumphant smile she raised the gun towards Nick.

He could have sworn time had stopped. He was to far away to stop Melissa, but Nick's legs were just within reach. Before he had even thought twice he had taken hold of his brother's legs and pulled them out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor out of Caulfield's grasp.

It happened just when they heard the gunshot.

Caulfield's eyes went wide, and his eyes went from the gun to his chest. Just below his neck he could see the blood beginning to flow freely onto his shirt. The bullet had hit him right where Nick's head had been only a second earlier. Unable to move he slowly thought he could feel himself falling before everything went black.

It took a minute to register what she had just done. All she could do was watch him fall to the floor, blood pouring quickly from the fatal wound that she hadn't meant to create.

Once the full impact hit her she was filled with rage beyond that of any she had ever known before. She swung her gun towards Warrick, not even bothering to watch Nick's movements.

His eyes were wide as he watched the gun swing towards him; her aim no doubt was trained on him alone. She sneered viciously at him as she moved to pull the trigger. Only the expected impact never came. The loud sound that had quickly filled the room before fading away had sounded odd, and some distant corner of his mind told him that he should have recognized it.

When he saw Melissa drop the gun to bring both hands to her neck his eyes turned to Nick just in time to see his best friend drop the staple gun to the floor once more.

* * *

Grissom didn't even get the chance to duck when the flash of the pale red dress flew into his face as John swung around, sending Catherine's legs out behind her as she clung to him. The other men were getting closer, unable to get a clear shot at anyone that wouldn't be potentially deadly to either John or the other gunman.

Sam felt the CSI supervisor fall into him, sending them both tumbling into the elevator next to Vega's still unmoving body. Grissom briefly paused to check the detective's pulse, relieved to find that it was still fairly strong.

Evelyn slowly got up to her knees, her back and shoulder throbbing from being struck so hard. Her eyes shot up to the other approaching men, and she knew that she had to do something quickly. In the end she dashed to the far side of the hallway, throwing the metal compartment door open and quickly pulling out a fire extinguisher.

The three men just down the hall didn't get the chance to turn around before she had begun to spray them down.

* * *

Warrick hadn't wasted any time grabbing Melissa's gun, and wrapping his other arm around Nick's waist. Together they found their way out of the room and into another hallway. His guilt at causing more pain to his friend's leg was eased by the knowledge that it had at least saved their lives.

Nick bit down on his lip as he let Warrick help keep him moving. His right hand was tightly clenching the staple gun as he tried to keep his body from trembling. Seeing Caulfield die had brought a new surge of hope swelling up inside of him. _We're gonna make it._

When they reached the elevator relief surged through them, and the simple ding as the doors slid open was oddly comforting. The sight of Grissom, Sam Braun, and Sam Vega all lying on the floor of the elevator had both men baffled.

* * *

Once the extinguisher was empty she quickly launched it at the men, but it wasn't enough. She could feel one of the gunman's arms wrap around her, quickly trying to subdue her. Another man was trying to get Catherine off of John's back, and Kyle was trying to fight off the remaining two men on his own. It was anything but a fair fight. Catherine had accidentally hit the button, calling the elevator back once more.

Not even two minutes after the elevator doors had shut, leaving them without an escape route, and their numbers cut in half, it opened once more, this time with Nick and Warrick leaning over Grissom, who was struggling to think clearly.

Both pairs of eyes darted to the scene in the hallway. Nick was the first one to pivot fully around, and bring the staple gun up. He fired twice at John's chest; the staples sending sudden bursts of pain coursing through him. Catherine quickly let go, and allowed herself to fall to the floor.

* * *

Brass had never been more tense in his entire life as he drove his car right onto the concrete in front of the casino. He pulled to a stop just before the main entrance, and before he had even jumped out of his car he was heading for the front doors. When they didn't budge he waved for the other officers to bust it down. Seconds later there was literally a swarm of officers charging through the empty casino floor. Sara and Greg right on their heels.

* * *

Evelyn shifted slightly in the man's grip, just enough so that she could elbow the man in his side. Her mind was repeatedly telling her to 'sing' as she remembered one of her self-defense classes from years ago. She found her left foot diving back onto the other man's foot. _Solar flex done_. _In step done. Groin and nose… just finish the guy off, fast… I can do it._ Her left elbow then wrenched upwards into the man's nose causing him to cry out and before he could stop her from moving she had rammed her elbow into his groin causing him to double over.

When she saw the elevator doors slid open she wasn't sure if she was terrified or relieved. Once she saw both Nick and Warrick her heart leapt, and she found herself actually believing that they were going to make it out. Once Nick shot John she immediately dropped to the floor, as did Kyle.

John could feel the pain in his chest, causing him to grow even more furious as he charged at Nick. He hadn't even made a foot before a louder shot rang out and he was stopped dead in his tracks. Death was nearly instantaneous, and he didn't even realize that he had been shot in the head as everything went black once and for all.

The other two gunmen immediately lifted their hands over their head. It was then that Catherine noticed the blood seeping through a leg wound, trickling along his dark pants in four small streams. Nick went back to Vega as Grissom started trying to revive the detective and pulled free a pair of handcuffs. He weakly tossed them to Kyle before practically falling back into Warrick, unable to stand on his own any longer.

He wasted no time in cuffing the two men's hands together before swinging a door open and forcing one man inside. It didn't take much effort to get the cuffs to slide beneath the door, and to shut it, leaving both men immobile.

Moments later they were all crowded into the rather large elevator and watching with sheer relief as the numbers steadily moved down. Warrick was helping keep Nick upright, his best friend clearly moving beyond the point of being fatigued. Catherine was leaning back against the wall, trying to even out her breathing. Sam was standing as far from everyone as possible, not meeting anyone's eyes. Vega was slowly coming around as Grissom continued to hover over him. Kyle was standing just in front of the doors, ready to pounce onto anyone that might be on the other side of them when they opened. Evelyn was next to Catherine, gently massaging her shoulders while her eyes kept going back to Nick and Warrick.

It was a type of friendship she had never actually witnessed before, but even though she felt so far out of place, she also felt that they all shared a similar bond. Evelyn guessed that any life or death experience would bring the people involved closer together. The thought that she could be teaching her class again tomorrow morning, or that she could actually get the chance to direct another school play made her smile softly.

When the overly cheerful chime sounded all eyes darted towards the door. Nick wasn't sure he could actually believe that they were already on the first floor. He shifted himself in Warrick's arms, making sure he'd be able to move quickly enough to shoot at anyone who would try to stop them from getting out of the building. No one moved as the doors slid open.

They all blinked in surprise at the army of guns pointing at them. Nick was the first one to actually overcome his shock when he saw Brass standing in front of the group of police officers. None of them could really believe their eyes. Sara and Greg were just behind Brass, and didn't waste any time before pushing past the burly detective and moving forward to latch onto their friends.

There was a flurry of movement, and Nick could briefly hear Brass shouting instructions to the other officers as they were led outside into the refreshingly cool night air. He looked up, and briefly caught a glimpse of several stars before his eyes were drawn back to the multitude of red and blue flashing lights that now surrounded them.

They were finally safe.

* * *

To Be Continued…

* * *

Notes: This is probably gonna be the longest chapter of them all, and hopefully I'll be able to update soon, there are only a few more chapters left. Hope you all enjoyed this one as much as the others, and I'd appreciate any comments/reviews as always. Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read this story- it means a lot to me.

* * *


	13. Being Alive

**What a Beautiful Mess

* * *

**

Relief.

It was all that was rushing through each of their minds and hearts as they left the casino behind them. Warrick and Nick clung to each other tightly, neither one daring to let go in case it was just a terrible dream and they were still stuck in the middle of hell.

Another SWAT team raced past them and up into the casino to face the aftermath of one hell of a bad night. There was a large group of ambulances waiting to whisk them off to Desert Palms. None of them were even going to dream of resisting. The prospect of lying down and sleeping for weeks all that occupied their minds.

That was something that Warrick hoped lasted for a long time. He knew that Catherine was feeling the same way. Just looking at Nick let him know that there was going to be one hell of an uphill battle. The look on his friend's face after he had been freed from his coffin was never going to fully disappear. It was going to be a long time before anyone was back to something that even resembled normal.

A few moments later he was helping Nick onto a stretcher, and he quickly allowed the paramedic behind him to help him up as well. He turned back to look back out over the plaza. David had just pulled up, and he watched as Doc Robbins skillfully maneuvered his way out of the large vehicle. There were two DBs lying but a few feet from the massive glass doors they had passed through just moments ago.

Police Officers were literally swarming the area, the all too familiar crime scene tape jutted out in stark contrast to the cold steel and concrete. Another SWAT team had arrived and was already racing inside. It looked unreal, as if he were dreaming, but Nick's firm grip on his hand told him otherwise.

Just as he saw another group of paramedics rushing around the side of the building the doors began to swing shut. He caught a brief glimpse of blonde hair before the door was shut and they sped off. In moments they were directly on the strip, the larger casinos surrounding them on all sides, the glittering lights enough to capture anyone's attention.

Anyone except Warrick. His attention was drawn back to Nick, and he couldn't help but offer a small smile when he realized that his friend's hand had gone limp, and he was fast asleep. When Nick began to snore softly the smile grew and he leaned back resting his head against the side of the ambulance. Fatigue was catching up with him as well, and he didn't even notice when the closest paramedic, a young woman that looked far too old for her age, as she went to work on his arm. They had survived.

He just wasn't sure if he was ready for the moment when the euphoria of simply being alive came to an end.

* * *

Catherine had immediately hurried over to Paul along with Greg when they saw him being wheeled out. There was a flurry of movement, men and women wearing the uniforms quickly lifted him up into the nearest ambulance. She managed to climb inside and into a corner before two more men had pulled themselves up and the vehicle had taken off.

Her eyes followed their movements as they cut open his shirt to reveal the bullet wound. She quickly closed her eyes and gently brushed her fingers along his face and over his hair, it would have been impossible to keep looking at him. The last time she had been in an ambulance had been in conditions far too similar.

For a moment she swore she could see Nick lying there, blood flowing far too rapidly from his body. His skin far too pale, his face looking as if he was being sent to another slab in the morgue and not to the hospital. Tears were falling slowly, completely unnoticed. Images of Nick's left arm kept entering her mind.

The man was the epitome of selflessness. There hadn't even been the slightest hesitation before he had swung the chair over the edge just in time for her to grab it; just in time to save her life. It still amazed her that he hadn't even bothered to wonder what the consequences of twisting his arm at that angle would be.

Then her thoughts drifted to Sam. Both men were enigmas, so many closed doors, and so many surprises. Except the two could have been complete opposites. Nick was someone she knew, that she could absolutely trust- not matter what. No matter what was at stake for himself, he'd offer everything he could. And while she wished that it hadn't been proven to her so often it was often comforting to know that the Texan would always be there for her to turn to.

Sam was a different story altogether. He had been the only one who hadn't seemed overly surprised by the sound of gunshots below when there had been no sirens. Too many questions remained unanswered, and it infuriated her that every single time she saw him she seemed to discover a new side to him. Trust was one word she definitely wouldn't apply to him anymore.

And if he did turn out to be the cruel ma she had seen on far too many occasions she knew it wouldn't end well for anyone involved. Catherine definitely didn't want to have to face the fallout of another terrible situation, especially one that was actually avoidable. The knowledge that it would be her own mother taking the brunt of the damage was even more unsettling.

When she felt her hands being pushed away her attention immediately snapped back to the ambulance, and she watched as they pulled the defibrillators free and she watched as they placed them against Paul's chest. Her arms immediately wrapped around herself as she tried not to picture Nick lying there. When she looked down she could almost see her hands once more drenched in the blood of her best friend.

It was more than enough to bring on a new wave of tears.

* * *

She hadn't wasted any time getting to the scene. Annie watched as Grissom was helped up into the last ambulance. Sara climbed in just behind him followed by one last paramedic before the doors swung shut and the vehicle took off, lights blaring. She had seen three other ambulances already on the road on her way there. The shrill blazing sirens piercing her heart.

Her eyes fell on Brass, who was standing alone, staring at the spot the massive vehicles had just vacated. She quietly climbed out of the vehicle, glad that he was okay, and had been sparred the torment she had heard the team had gone through. Just seeing the grim, distant look on his face was enough to tell her that this had hurt him deeply.

There was no doubt that he had a soft spot for the nightshift. And she knew how much it hurt him everytime one of them was hurt, especially Nick. She couldn't blame him though, the young man had a way with people. After six months the Texan had made sure she was well accepted at all times, like she was another welcome addition to their family.

* * *

Grissom definitely didn't want to be on the stretcher. He didn't want to know what it had been like for Nick seeing the team watching him after they had rescued him from his grave. They were checking his pulse again, going about their duties to make sure he was okay. Had he really had any energy left he would have rolled his eyes.

Being fatigued after the short struggle he had been through frustrated him. Just thinking about how much the rest of his team had suffered through made his stomach churn. Then again, he had never been the victim before. It was a new role, one that he wasn't comfortable with. He wasn't even about to try and comprehend just how hard Nick's life had been, there weren't words, and he knew it wasn't something he would ever attain.

Sara was there next to him, and he smiled slightly knowing that she had at least come out of this physically unscathed. Greg would probably be pretty well off as well once the cuts and bruises healed. It was the others that had him worried. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that terrible things had happened in the building, and it was likely to haunt the three senior members of their team.

Once he met Sara's eyes something in him commanded him to say something, but his throat wouldn't allow the words to come out. There was nothing he could say anyway that would comfort her. His lack of finesse in the world of caring and comforting words was definitely a point that was not in his favor. Several quotes came to mind, but no matter how much they seemed to fit the situation none of them were right.

So he closed his eyes, and allowed sleep to overcome him.

* * *

Greg sat next to Evelyn, quietly stealing glances at the rattled woman, wondering how she had found herself thrown into the middle of this. She was another innocent victim. Someone who had been thrown into a fight that hadn't had anything to do with any of them. It scared him to know that there were creeps in the world who would actually go after other people to get the one they actually wanted to hurt.

Although he had to admit that it also meant that their team was closer than anyone he had ever met. It was like an unusual bond that had made him actually feel just as close to his friends on the team just as he was with his own family.

"There something on my face that I don't know about?"

"Wh-what?"

"You've been staring at me."

"I, oh, uh… sorry."

"You want to tell me why?" She offered, hoping to pass some of the time it would take to get to the hospital.

"I think you'd be good for him…" The words were out before he could stop himself. "I, uh, I just mean the way he grabbed your hand like that before they shoved us into an ambulance… I didn't think it'd be humanly possible for him to hold onto anyone but Warrick."

They shared a brief smile, both seeing just how vital the friendship between Warrick and Nick was. It was something neither of them had ever seen before they had met them, and it was just another testament to how much they cared about both of them.

A quiet groan brought their attention temporarily to the officer lying down before them as one of the ridiculously strong men went about taking care of him. They were all still alive and when their eyes met again sharing a silent look that showed their current relief.

* * *

He was alone. His own daughter had gone with a man she had hardly gotten to know. Some new guy that had been forced onto their team, and she had gone with him.

There was no surprise anymore. Catherine was undoubtedly a mixture of himself and her mother and all he could do was feel grateful that she had inherited their better halves. With an irritated sigh he allowed the woman beside him to move his arm and continue checking him over. Some things were harder to overcome than others, Caulfield's words echoing in the chasms of his mind.

Getting 'soft' was something he couldn't afford. Definitely not something he would allow to happen. People never walked on him, and he'd be damned before he let them. Sam briefly wondered if it was fate that had chosen that to be the very thing that Catherine wanted from him above anything else.

While thinking of Lily made him smile he still wasn't sure it was quite enough. Neither had expected the other to truly be monogamous, yet he had the distinct feeling in his gut that any 'infidelity' was solely on his shoulders. He was still at the table, in the big leagues, and even though so many of the old faces were dropping off he was intent on not becoming just another person whose legacy would fade as soon as they departed.

* * *

Warrick watched as Nick's doctor wrapped up Nick's left arm. The man was still sound asleep, something that he wished could be happening to him. Instead an older nurse was silently working on cleaning and bandaging up his arm where the bullet had grazed him. No one spoke, and the silence would have been deafening if not for the constant beeps of the few machines Nick was attached to that would monitor his vitals and the quiet snoring that had secured the small smile on his face.

He had fought hard for his own spot in the room, and had yelled at more than one nurse that he wasn't about to leave his best friend alone. Knowing that it was more for his own comfort than Nick's didn't bother him the slightest. After having come so close to losing his friend once more he needed the reassurance that the Texan was still alive and kicking.

Even despite the pain Warrick had a sinking suspicion that there were far more worrisome reasons why he'd be unable to sleep. Images started to reel through his mind. Plexiglas. Nick's hands pressing against the lid holding him back. Blood covering everything, fear, terror, being on the verge of losing all semblance of sanity.

Images where he was in Nick's place with his friend struggling to open the lid but being too horrified to allow his fingers to actually obey him. Then he was standing over Nick, reaching down holding Nick in place. Holding the trembling man's hand so that he knew they had found him while the others worked as fast as humanly possible to get everything set up to free Nick. Fast enough to try and manage to let him live long enough to at least see the next sunrise.

He remembered watching the paramedics struggling to keep his brother alive. Remembered how bloody Catherine's hands had been as she rushed to keep up with the others. There were more and more memories flooding him; images that he had wished could stay buried. Then all he could see was himself fallen on the dirt next to Nick, cradling his brother's head in his arms as Catherine rushed to his side and took hold of their friend's hands.

Before he could even register what he was doing he had crossed the room and was standing by Nick's side. In complete silence he took hold of Nick's hand, and silently thanked God that his life had been spared. And though he had known what Nick had gone through was hell, he had never had a true glimpse as to just how bad it had really been.

Now that he had, it shocked him that Nick had ever been able to smile. There was a deeper, newfound respect for his friend that he had found while still entombed in his glass coffin. Nick had definitely been far stronger than anyone had thought to give him credit for.

* * *

Catherine had gone off in search of Nick and Warrick as soon as she had gotten out of the ambulance. Apart from several large bruises and cuts she was perfectly fine, and there wasn't a single force in the world powerful to stop her from completing her task. When she had finally gotten sight of the board where the rooms were listed along with the patients there were two names that had caught her attention far sooner than Nick's or even Warrick's.

Lindsey and her mother were in the hospital.

That had become her new destination, and she paused just after entering the room. Both were sound asleep, and there was a young male nurse checking the IV stands and other various bits of equipment in the room. He only gave a quick glance at her, noting the obvious relationship she had to share with the patients. The resemblance was far too great to be coincidence.

"A-are they okay?"

"Yeah, they'll be fine. Both were given heavy sedatives, they're just here so that we can monitor them and make sure that they'll be fine as it wears off. When they wake up they ought to be just fine, and there wasn't any trauma aside from a small cut on your daughter's hand."

"How long will they be… uh, a-asleep?" She whispered, her heart filled with relief to know that they would be okay.

"At least a few more hours. You look tired, I could possibly arrange for an extra bed."

"No, uh, I actually need to find some of my friends, I just don't know where they are."

"Well, I'm done here, if you give me there names I'll take you to their room now."

"Nick Stokes, and uh, Warrick- Warrick Brown."

"Ah… I know exactly where that room is- the only room nurses actually wanted tonight. Plus, I think everyone in this entire building heard Mr. Brown yelling that no one was gonna be getting anywhere near him to help him unless he was in the same room as his friend."

That got a small smile from Catherine. She followed him quietly as he led her out of the room and down the hall to another room that was slightly more private than some of the other rooms in the hospital. He nodded at her and smiled before she quietly thanked him and let herself into the room. Warrick's eyes only met hers for a brief second before he went back to keeping his constant vigil over Nick.

Without a word she pulled a chair over to Warrick, and he smiled a bit more as he sat down. Not bothering to see if he had even taken the seat she had pulled another chair up to the other side of the bed. One of her hands took hold gently on Nick's left hand, as she ever so delicately traced circles on the back of his hand, making sure that it was strong enough for him to know it was her and not some insect, but not enough to cause him anymore pain. Her other hand reached over and took Warrick's free hand in her own.

They were all safe. The two closest friends she had ever had were alive, and just being able to see them breathing was enough to warm her heart.

* * *

Sara nodded as the elderly female doctor spouted off various bits of information on Grissom's condition. He was fast asleep, and looked far more peaceful than she had seen him in a long time. Perhaps it was because the puzzle had finally come together, and that maybe this time it actually was truly over.

The only words she really heard was 'slight concussion' and 'there shouldn't be any real damage' as her attention stayed centered on her supervisor's face. Her body ached where the bullets had entered her vest, leaving dark bruises on her skin. It had been worth it though. Everyone was safe, and she found it easier to breathe just knowing that the others were all safe and sound as well.

He closed his eyes briefly before looking back down at the body on the table in front of him. His body ached, and he briefly looked down at his prosthetic legs. It still hurt to think about it, and he rarely let himself dwell on the accident. Except that he still wished that he had his own legs, that he could still walk on his own without the help of metal and steel.

* * *

Seeing the man that had been responsible for nearly taking away Nick's own ability to walk was anything but easy for him. Greed had brought him here to his table in the cold, lifeless morgue.

Just behind him were two homeless people. Their bodies broken and battered. They were waiting to be taken away to be cremated at the expense of the state. He shook his head silently, wondering why people didn't understand that they all ended up in the same place in the end. It didn't matter how much money a person had, where they lived. Neither Ty Caulfield nor the two homeless men behind him would have a burial that anyone would attend.

Neither would have a funeral service. Neither would have anyone that would actually miss them.

It was how he lived. Why he put so much into his life and his friends and family. He knew that his wife would miss him when he was finally gone, as would his own children. As would his friends and family at the lab. Robbins knew it because he knew that he would miss them if he ever lost them.

Without a word he began to make the Y-incision and begin the autopsy though cause of death was clearly the bullet that had been lodged in his body. And so he went to work; the cold lifeless eyes of a fool staring blankly back at him.

* * *

Brass watched in silence as the last SWAT team finally exited the building. They had taken twenty people down to the station already, and the number of dead guards had surpassed twenty-five. Four of which had been easily identified as workers from the Rampart Casino. That news had gotten him to shake his head. The four men had wreaked havoc on quite a few of Caulfield's men, but in the end it had only caused a bloodbath where only a few men had survived.

Somehow Braun's men had known exactly where he was, and it only made him wish that they had been able to convict the man of murder. Even knowing the millionaire as Catherine's father didn't change a thing.

In the end he was a criminal. In the end he had still put the lives of Brass' friends in jeopardy.

That, in his book, was well beyond unforgivable.

* * *

Evelyn stared silently through the window of the door, with Greg just beside her. They watched the three people in the room. Three friends, three people who had taken it upon themselves to keep everyone of them alive. She knew without a doubt that she owed them her life. And as she watched Warrick reluctantly fall asleep with his head by Nick's side she knew that she would do anything to help them if she could. Though she didn't belong in the room with them at the moment she couldn't help but feel that she had taken a spot in their family, no matter how small.

"Welcome to the family." Greg whispered quietly, and they shared a brief smile. She wondered for just a moment how he had seemingly read her mind. Then she went back to giving her full attention to the three people in the room just past the door.

* * *

Catherine smiled when Warrick finally fell asleep with his head resting on the bed just to Nick's side. Her grip on their hands never weakened, and decided it was time to enjoy the fact that they were alive. Feelings, fears, and everything else they'd have to face were pushed aside.

For now they were alive. And it was enough.

* * *

To Be Continued…

* * *

Notes: Thanks for all the support and reviews. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'm pretty sure there's only two left after this one. It'll probably be up next Saturday, so I hope it's worth the wait. Have a great weekend.

* * *


	14. Calm Before the Storm

**What a Beautiful Mess

* * *

**

There was nothing he could do. Being confined to the small room was irritating, and knowing that the doctors had plenty of reason to keep him lying down wasn't the least bit comforting to him. The words 'minor concussion' weren't ones he had ever thought he'd hear applied to himself in his entire life.

And there they were.

Grissom sighed quietly, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, and seeing anything but the tiles above his head. There were always three groups when it came to crime.

First were the criminals themselves, then their victims, and finally the group Grissom, himself, was in. Justice. He had always been a Crime Scene Investigator. Always searching for the clues that would bring justice to everyone, trying to give the victims what they deserved by putting the people that hurt them behind bars.

Except now things weren't so clearly defined. He had been held at gunpoint, completely defenseless. Under the mercy of another human being, and that was a position he had never been in before. It made him wonder how the others dealt with such issues. Sara had been a victim when she was only a little girl. Catherine knew what it was like as well.

And now even Warrick, Greg, and Paul knew as well. Then there was Nick, and a long road he didn't want to go down. Before this night, he had never had even the slightest notion of how hard it must have been for Nick to go through so much. Even now he couldn't begin to imagine what had happened in that building before he had gotten there.

* * *

His eyes opened slowly, trying to adjust to the dimly lit room. Everything around him was soft, all the colors a gentle pastel. It was a definite change from the stark contrast of moonlit rooms and the glaring lights of both Vegas and the flashing red and blue of both police cruiser and ambulances.

The weight keeping his arms from moving confused him until he saw the two forms using the side of his bed as a pillow. Seeing both Catherine and Warrick there made his eyes well with tears, as he wondered why they'd bother to stay with him. He hadn't expected to really live through the past night, nor had he ever expected that either of them would really want to see him again. Old fears and shame were retaking their hold, as was the guilt of only making things worse for everyone involved.

He was sobbing silently when Catherine's eyes slowly opened. The sight of tears acted as her alarm clock, immediately snapping her out of the groggy state her mind was in and moving closer to him. Her hand quickly landed on his cheek, preventing him from turning away from her. Nick couldn't get his mind to work well enough to understand why they'd still be there, why Catherine still cared about him after everything he had done.

"I… I'm sorry." His voice was raspy, and he barely recognized it as his own.

Catherine shook her head, her ruffled hair falling forward into her face. She quickly put a finger to Nick's lips to silence him, making sure her eyes never lost contact with his. "Don't you dare apologize to me. Not after… after what you did last night. The _only_ thing I'll let you apologize for is for trying to blame yourself, and maybe for letting your left arm get twisted like that."

"It was all my fault. W-we never should have even been there… should've just been me."

"Nick- don't do this to yourself…"

He couldn't make himself wait for her to finish before he started up again though, tears falling along his face, the shimmering trails tearing away at Catherine's heart. "I… _why_ is he still here? How can he even _look_ at _me_? It's _my_ fault he ended up in that… that… It's _my_ _fault_. I put him there, and I couldn't even get him out."

"First of all, Nick- you didn't put him in that god damn box, got it? Second- if he had any idea that you were blaming yourself for this he'd knock some sense into you. The two of you are best friends, through thick and thin. He doesn't blame you Nick; _no one_ blames you for any of this."

"I-is it ever… is it ever gonna stop?" He whispered, more or less simply mouthing the words, as if voicing the question to loudly would make it far too real.

Catherine wasn't exactly sure how to answer the question, and it showed in her eyes. She had no idea what Nick was referring to. The list of possibilities was far too great for her to be able to narrow it down. "No one is going to hurt you now, Nick… you're safe. We're _all_ safe."

"I can still feel them… all of them…" Nick let his voice trail off before closing his eyes and willing the tears to stop. "No… not gonna do this again- not anymore." He hadn't meant to say the words out loud, but a quick glance at the confusion on Catherine's face was enough to tell him the words had been spoken.

"What aren't you going to do, Nick?"

"Please… you sh-should go, now. It's too much. All you've done for me; I… I don't deserve it, Catherine. _You_ don't deserve to have all my problems unloaded onto you. I should be able to do this on my own. For the past year all I've done is-"

"All you've done is let your friends help you through some really tough times. There isn't a time limit on how long it takes you to get past any of this. You're not a burden Nick, you never were, and you never will be. All we want is to find a way past this, for all of us, and we're not gonna leave you behind."

She smiled softly and placed a gentle kiss to Nick's forehead before she wiped away his tears with her slender fingers. "We love you Nick. You're the best friend anyone could ever hope for."

* * *

It was over. David had left what seemed like an eternity ago. The dayshift team had arrived, and had immediately begun the task of their tedious processing. Brass was thankful for the fact that the building had been closed off to the public due to the renovations it had been undergoing. A large crowd of possible suspects would only have served to make his headache even worse.

Having Annie there helped, but there were far too many cameras flashing all around him. Vega was still there, having denied any attempts to help him. Vartann and Sofia were somewhere inside along with half the other detectives on the police force. Even the rookie CSIs had been called out for this one, being told to process the floors where there was no real suspicious activity. The rest of the building was being processed as quickly as possible.

His eyes traveled over to where the Sheriff, and Ecklie were both trying to explain the situation to the press. Reporters, and the countless flashing cameras were all trying to gather as much as they could, the enormous mob of people were incapable of patience when it came to getting the story that would be plastered over the front page of every newspaper for well over a month.

He sighed and turned away from the scene, leaving the crime scene tape that was now plastered all around the casino fade from his memory. Instead he stared out towards the desert, through the gaps of countless buildings where the sky was beginning to get a little lighter. Pretty soon the sun would be up, and a new day would be started.

When Annie placed her hand on his shoulder he jumped slightly, and offered her a quick, apologetic look. Images of the team kept running through his mind, and he was surprised to find that his eyes were tearing up when he let himself acknowledge the fact that they had come far too close to being unable to see the sun ever again.

"Why don't I give you a lift to the hospital? There's nothing you can do _here_ anymore. Besides, I'm sure they'll feel more comfortable telling you what happened than anyone else."

"What if I don't want to know what happened in there?"

"Then you listen anyway. They're your friends."

"Yeah, I just… I wish we had found them sooner. In all my years on the force… I've never seen anything like this." His voice was grim, his eyes never leaving the growing orange and red light breaking through the ever-lightening sky. He felt like he was in the middle of a movie, where the soft music would be playing over the ending scene.

Except it wasn't over. He wondered briefly if the entire team would quit, how long they'd be out of the field, and how long it would take for their newest wounds to heal.

Brass shook his head, wondering if it was in defiance to whatever power had allowed such things to happen, or in defiance to whatever terrors would be assaulting his friends. He stood there for a few moments more, still watching the sky until he finally allowed himself to blink and slowly made his way with Annie to the waiting vehicle that would take him to his family.

* * *

Greg sat patiently, allowing the two nurses to go about cleaning his cuts and replacing the bandages. It still stung, but it was nothing he wasn't used to. There wouldn't even be scars as the silent reminders that he was a victim.

He knew the term bothered most people, especially Nick. The way he reacted to the word was more than a dead give away. Except, he had grown up in a home where it was okay to be 'weak' as long as you were honest and essentially happy. A small smile crept across his face as he replayed numerous memories where either he or another member of his family had been anything from gloomy and depressed to downright pissed off. The way the rest of the family would get together, and eventually come up with a foolproof plan that would guarantee them at least a smile.

The plans themselves had never worked for Greg. The actions his parents and siblings had taken weren't what had made him laugh or smile again; it had been the simple fact that they wanted to help, the knowledge that they knew something was wrong and loved him enough to try and help him out.

Though he wasn't exactly sure, he had a feeling that his far more hyper side was going to be making several special appearances once they were back in the lab. He had toned himself done almost to an extreme when he had switched careers, becoming a CSI. And while anything he did wouldn't be comparable to dancing around the lab in a gargantuan headdress, it was bound to earn him at least a few smiles.

He smiled slightly, ignoring another stab of pain as the older nurse began cleaning a larger cut on his arm. The embarrassment would definitely be worth seeing his friends smile.

* * *

Neither one was sure how long they had been there, unmoving. Nick trying his best to keep his breathing even and calm as Catherine gently kept one hand on his cheek and the other firmly planted on his shoulder. Both were at a loss for words, unable to voice the feelings that were brewing silently in both of them.

Then Warrick let out a quiet groan, before lifting his head a few inches off the bed and trying to slowly let his eyes adjust to the light in the room. The panic attack didn't hit until he saw the brilliant green eyes finally meet his own.

Then he was back in the box. Gun to his chin, Warrick standing over him, frozen from panic. No words were spoken, and suddenly Warrick was gone, scrambling out of the hole, running in blind fear. Leaving Nick alone to pull the trigger. His eyes traveled down to where the broken light was mocking him, the ants crawling in even faster than before, the bites coming more rapidly. All he could do was pull the trigger.

Just before his finger pulled down to secure his sudden freedom from hell he could see Catherine and Warrick standing over him in the hospital room. He looked down to see Warrick's hand clamped tightly onto his own, while Catherine kept a much lighter grip on his still sore left hand. Nick was still trembling violently, and couldn't bring himself to look up into Warrick's eyes.

Instead he focused on the empty paper cup in Warrick's other hand. The cool mixture of water and sweat on his face confusing until he had finally calmed down enough to actually form coherent thoughts. The ability to voice those thoughts was still gone though, leaving them all in an uncomfortable silence.

"I'm sorry…" Nick finally whispered. They were the only words he could think of to say, after that, all he could do was let the tears fall freely once more.

"Hey… hey, buddy, it's okay man. We're all okay. You don't got a damn thing to be sorry for, all right? It wasn't your fault, Nick." Warrick immediately went off, trying his best to convince Nick that he wasn't lying; hoping it would be enough to at least help the man to start calming down.

He had finally lost it. Any semblance of control was gone, all he could do was weakly cling to Warrick's hand, and hope that what his family was saying was actually true. No one was sure what came next. Each of them struggled to find anything that they could say, but no words came out. After awhile Warrick carefully pulled himself up on the bed so that he was sitting beside Nick, and he gently eased closer, cradling Nick's head as Catherine moved to sit on the other side of the mattress.

It was several more minutes before Nick finally began to fully regain his control. Warrick was still doing his best to push back the images of Plexiglas from his mind, and a quick look at Catherine confirmed that she too was trying to let go.

"Thank you…" Nick mumbled quietly, his eyes drooping slowly, as sleep began to take over.

* * *

There was nothing unusual about the lobby. People were coming and going, doctors, nurses, and the occasional patients and bystanders were all present, going about their own lives. The only evidence that anything terrible had happened was the muted news playing on the television set in the waiting room.

Brass sighed, his only acknowledgement that eventually it would just be another memory in what was starting to become a rather sickening list. He absentmindedly began to massage his forehead beneath course fingers, trying to prepare himself for having to face them. The mere thought of ever getting such statements from his team was unsettling, and far past the point of just being unpleasant.

* * *

"You're free to go, Mr. Grissom."

"Thank you, uh, when are… my team- they gonna get let out of here soon?"

"Well, Ms. Willows has already been cleared, so have Mr. Sanders, and Ms. Sidle. Mr. Brown is still a slight concern, we just want to monitor him for this next night as well. Mr. Stokes should be just fine, and will probably be out in a couple of days, his arm wasn't broken, and while he'll probably suffer through a lot of fatigue, he'll be fine. Mr. Davenport, he's still up in the ICU, but his doctor said he's seen worse cases make it out just fine. Plus, he's young, and was in good physical health before, it could be awhile still though."

"What about Catherine's family?"

"They'll be just fine, Officer Peterson is currently being monitored, but not given any serious complications he ought to be fine as well. And Evelyn Richards was 'formally' released a few hours ago. All in all, it could have been far worse."

Grissom just nodded along, suddenly unsure if the doctor was right. Of course he knew that they were lucky to have all survived; it would only have taken a couple of seconds for things to have changed, a single event to have ruined everything.

Except, it was hard to feel lucky when someone had gone after everyone on his team. Relief wasn't on his list of words used to describe a situation where his friends and colleagues had come so close to losing their lives. He wasn't about to let his mind dwell on the fact that he had been close to possibly dying as well.

On his way out he paused to look into the room where the nurse had told him that Lindsey and Catherine's mother were in. A slight smile played on his face when he saw Catherine holding Lindsey close. It faded when he saw the older man sitting next to Catherine's mother. With a quiet sigh he turned back to the hallway and moved on, heading for the room where both Warrick and Nick were being held in.

His smile started to come back just slightly when he saw them talking quietly, his mind automatically locking onto their lips, reading what they were saying. It grew a slight bit more when he actually let it sink in that they were talking about rock climbing. After a few moments he decided against entering the room. There was nothing for him to say.

And after giving Brass the best statement of what had happened as he could he didn't really want to talk anymore.

* * *

Sara hadn't stayed long after talking to Brass. There hadn't been much for her to say, and from what little she knew it wouldn't have the slightest impact on the case. The only reason for even doing so was strictly procedure. Enough evidence had already been collected to place the few survivors of Caulfield's men in prison.

As soon as her face hit her pillow she had fallen fast asleep, the overload of stress and so many other emotions had left her wiped out.

* * *

Everything he had told Brass had already been put into reports. He'd still have to be cleared by a psychiatrist before he'd be allowed to go back out into the field again, but at the moment, work was the last thing on his mind.

It didn't take anymore than a few brief minutes for the stress of that night to catch up with him. His eyes were closed before his head even hit the pillow, and in seconds he was fast asleep, hoping that no one would bother him until he had gotten his fill of sleep.

* * *

She had had enough sleep. All she could focus on was Lindsey, and though no one in the room spoke much, just being near each other, and silently resting, and recuperating, was more than enough. So much stress had been lifted from her shoulders in the blink of an eye. Knowledge that rough times were still waiting for them didn't bother her any at the moment though.

Nick was likely to need quite a bit of help, as was Warrick, and she had no doubts that she, herself, would be requiring quite a bit of counseling. Doubts about the strength of the bonds that held their team together were nonexistent. And now that they were all safe once more she found it far easier to accept that things were going to be okay.

Having to tell Brass everything that had happened was something she wasn't looking forward to doing again. The IAB was undoubtedly going to be showing up before too long, but so far everything had still been handled by the department itself. Knowing how close she had come to dying still made her shift in her seat, and knowing that Nick had sacrificed his good arm to save her hadn't consoled her the least bit.

It had also forced to think of just how close she had come to losing her own friends and family, and at the moment she wasn't anywhere near read to deal with the roller coaster of emotions those thoughts would send her on.

They were hurdles she figured could wait to be jumped, at the moment all she wanted to do was hold onto her daughter and thank God that they were all still alive.

* * *

He still couldn't really get himself to smile. Even after so long the remnants of his adrenaline rush was still on its way through his system. And what sleep he had gotten had been enough for the moment. The idle conversation he was having with Nick was relaxing. All that came up was simple sports stuff, and the occasional promise that they'd be getting together more between shifts and on their days off.

It simply wasn't the time to try and actually deal with what all had happened. And even though neither of them was really smiling it didn't matter. Both were relaxing, and letting the stress work itself off as best as they could. He had given the statement as best as possible, and he hadn't had much to tell aside from what happened at the school, and after Nick and the others had found him.

It hadn't helped that when Brass started asking questions his mind felt like nothing more than jello, and most of his memories had been hard for him to even describe in words. Nick had been questioned only minutes later, and he could see that it had taken a toll on the Texan. Seeing that much of the guilt was no longer so obviously written on his face was comforting, and he hoped that with time they'd be able to find some semblance of normalcy in their lives. Warrick also had a feeling that he wouldn't be the only one seeking more B&E cases along with other simple, less violent crimes.

Nick's still quiet voice slowly brought him back to reality, and he smiled slightly before answering the question as best as he could after only hearing half of it. If Nick noticed he wasn't saying a thing. All thoughts of what was to come was pushed back for the time being, and he didn't have to work hard to focus on the conversation they were engaged in.

* * *

He actually felt normal. There wasn't much reason why, but simply lying in his bed and talking about all sorts of things with his best friend was the only thing he wanted to be doing. Nick felt comfortable, and even the pain seemed to be taking a break from tormenting him. It was one of the moments that he actually wished would never end.

Though a lot of his lost strength and energy had started to recover he was still exhausted. As for the memories; they were still too fresh for him to actually want to recall too many of them. That was a problem that had plagued him repeatedly when Brass had asked him what had happened.

Nick could have sworn that he had actually relived the entire night once more. The sounds of men screaming until finally cut off when they met their death. He had essentially lost the fight for control when he had told Brass how he had knocked the two men off the roof of the casino, and the fact that he had actually shot numerous people had taken most of his strength. He hadn't even been able to tell him how he had failed to free Warrick from his glass coffin, and was glad when Warrick didn't say anything about it either.

There was still so much guilt for everything that had happened. And while most of his actions had been justified there was no mistaking the fact that he had come seriously close to sacrificing his own life for the others. He didn't want another investigation, he didn't want to have to answer any more questions than he already had.

Which was exactly why he was glad that Warrick hadn't brought up anything that had happened to them. There was still far too much to process, including the fact that his friend had told him that he was finally letting go of the guilt that he had been holding in for so long. It still simply wasn't enough to rid him of the shame he felt for being unable to get his best friend out of a hell that he had been glad none of his friends had been caught in.

His thoughts eventually drifted back to the case, images of the poor kid being killed because a single lunatic had wanted a place in the big leagues. All he had now was a cold slab in the coroner's office, and even that wasn't permanent. Ty Caulfield would be forgotten, just another faceless monster in a long line. The way Nick saw it; the only reason the press would carry the story on for more than a single day would be because Sam Braun was involved.

He'd be glad when it all started to go away. A slight spasm of pain in his arm brought his attention once more to the laid back conversation he was sharing with Warrick At the moment it was more than enough to satisfy him.

They were all safe. He still had his family and his friends, and they still had him.

* * *

To Be Continued…

* * *

Notes: Sorry this took so _long_ to update, but our new computer should have been here at least a week ago, instead it still hasn't gotten ordered, etc… basically one big mess, but I finally got around to finishing this chapter, and ended up taking it to school so I could post it. Hope you enjoyed it, and that it was worth the wait. The next (and final) chapter will _hopefully_ be up in a week, but I can't make any promises. 


	15. One Day at a Time

**What A Beautiful Mess

* * *

**

The case was officially closed. Every one of Caulfield's men that had survived had been put on trial, and not a single one had escaped being convicted. Not a single jury in the country would have been able to let them go and be able to live with themselves afterward.

Billy Meyers had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. A tragic death that should never have occurred. And it all happened because one man wanted his seat in the big leagues of Las Vegas. Timing had been everything for their plan, and he was still surprised at how coordinated every attack on his friends were.

A few of the bodies had belonged to men that worked at the Rampart, which could only mean that Sam Braun had had some way of contacting them. They had been killed in what was clearly an all out war on one of the lower halls of the hotel. IAB had found a small device that had been placed in Sam Braun's suit coat that Archie later determined to be an expensive tracking device.

One of the vehicles outside the building had had the locator device inside, with prints from his own henchmen all over the interior. Implying that Sam Braun had been either suspicious that Donovan had been behind the first kidnapping and attempted murder, or that he had become far more alert of his own safety.

John Fisher had been largely responsible for most of the actual damage inflicted. His gun had matched several other unsolved cases, and a knife that had been found on him was identical to the one that had been used on Nick's arm. Melissa Freeman had been identified as the woman who had managed to get into the personnel records, and had nearly caused the death of far too many of his friends.

Everyone else had been sufficiently identified, and he silently prayed that he'd never have to open the case file again. He couldn't help but wish that he could say that what his friends were going through could be over as well.

Paul was still in the hospital, and had finally been transferred out of the ICU. Officer Peterson was already back as well as the others, though most of his assignments were on cases where the scenes had already been secured. Evelyn Richards was back to teaching, and at times she would go to the team's group therapy sessions, or occasionally meet them at the diner.

Each member of the team had learned a lot about themselves, and in turn had managed to make quite a steps forward. At the same time what had happened was quickly followed by serious consequences that had put quite a strain on their friendships.

For Grissom, he had learned the same thing that had both helped and hurt him. He had learned a lesson in what it was like to be victimized, knew what being defenseless and at the mercy of another human being was like. It had allowed him a certain empathy for Nick and the others that he had lacked before. Except that it had also made him slightly more uncomfortable around victims when he worked, and there was also a certain distance he was obviously keeping from everyone else on his team.

Sara had had it 'easier' than the rest. She had known for so long how it felt to come close to losing Nick; they all had. But the woman had been faced with the possibility of losing each and every one of her closest friends. It had given her the ability to fully value her friends. It had also shown her how fragile life could be, and how much losing them would devastate her.

Greg wasn't a fool. Though he still had his moments of being something of a delinquent, no one could deny that he wasn't the same person he had once been. His newfound sense of seriousness and dedication had helped him excel at his job, yet the toll it had taken on who he was had been all too clear. It was comforting for each of them to know that he still had it in him to make the others crack up, and more recently he had been performing for one tough crowd. The number of cases, of victims, that he had seen may have taken a toll, but they had living proof that it didn't have to be permanent.

Catherine had been far more watchful of what was going on around the lab, and even more so of where each member of the team was, and what they were doing. Once Nick had come back she had done her best to hold back for his sake, but it was always a struggle for her. She had also become the most understanding and patient person that any of them had ever met, though it rarely applied to anyone other than the team and her own family.

Warrick had improved drastically. Guilt that had been weighing him down for so long was finally lessened, though it wasn't entirely gone. Most of his time was spent with Nick, and it had been good for both of them. He had a slight understanding of what Nick had been through twice, and while it had made for a lot of awkward moments between them, it had also managed to bring them closer.

Nick had had the hardest time of any of them. It was a constant fight to keep himself from giving in to the immense feelings of guilt that were often triggered by the slightest thing. He hated the fact that he was comforted by the fact that someone else had an idea of the hell he had lived through twice. But, it didn't mean that he wouldn't have traded places with Warrick in a heartbeat. The desire to be normal was still there, as was the instant lack of self-confidence.

It wasn't uncommon for Nick to second-guess himself at a scene. Every report was thoroughly rechecked several times before even being handed nervously to Grissom. At the same time he was physically getting stronger with each day, though it wasn't rare to see him using his crutches every once in a while to get around the lab.

His therapy had helped quite a bit as well, but having the knowledge that he would always have friends was even more beneficial. Several group therapy sessions between the team had helped, allowing them to discuss certain issues that had been bothering each of them.

It was a large part that had gotten Nick to where he now was. With a deep breath he resisted the sudden urge to reopen the folder in his hands. He had only gone through it four extra times, a record low since the night that had drastically changed all of their lives.

"Door's open." Grissom's eyes glanced up when he saw Nick, and he waved him forward to take a seat. "What do you need?"

"I, uh, I just had the final report for you on our case…"

If Grissom had noted the clear apprehensive tone in Nick's voice he never let on, and merely offered him a smile before taking the offered folder and quickly thumbing through it.

"Looks good." He placed the folder in a stack amongst several others, and watched thoughtfully as Nick rose and turned to leave. "You did a great job Nick. Ya just gotta stop beating yourself up, and start building up some confidence in yourself. It's good to have you back."

"It's good to be back."

Nick offered a smile, and though it didn't last long it was still there. He knew that it wasn't a lie though. Work offered him the chance to be around his friend, and while he was still confined to the lab, it didn't bother him.

"Hey Nick." Grissom called out, before Nick had the chance to close the door behind him.

"Yeah Grissom?"

"Your promotion _has_ been approved, it'll be put into effect as soon as you feel you're ready to take on some more responsibilities."

"Oh." He paused, not entirely sure of how to react to that. It had been awhile since he had given the position any thought at all, and after so long he figured it had simply been cut for some new gadget. After a few prolonged moments of silence he managed to muster enough of his thoughts to answer, "Thanks, uh… it means a lot."

Nick quietly closed the door behind them before making his way to one of the workstations. It wasn't long before he had pulled up the case-file on the computer, and was looking at the list of casualties that IAB had deemed him responsible for. A few looked as if they had barely been out of college, others looked like they could've been a part of some biker gang.

He couldn't hold back the shudder when he got to the two men he had caused to fall from the roof of Caulfield's casino. Their screams still echoed in his head. And seeing the pictures of two men that barely looked old enough to be out of college made his head droop. IAB had cleared him without hesitation, but Nick didn't entirely understand why.

"You can't blame yourself for what happened, Nick."

"They… I took away their chance to ever experience life." He shot back, not bothering to turn and face Catherine.

"No you didn't. These guys- they did it themselves. They knew the danger, and they went through with it anyway. You did what you _had_ to do to save yourself, and to help us. I know that you feel like there had to be another way, but there _wasn't_. They were going to kill us, and you… you stopped them."

"I know that… it's just- I hear their screams and… and it doesn't feel like I did the right thing… I mean, it just feels like…" He let his voice trail off, unable to trust that it wouldn't give out on him.

Catherine nodded, and gently wrapped her arms around Nick's shoulders. "Taking a life is never easy, Nick. I know. I felt like shit after I shot Syd Goggle, but I realized that while I _felt_ guilty- if it had happened all over again… I would have done the _same_ _exact_ _thing_. And if you can honestly tell me that you _wouldn't_ have done the same thing again for any one of us… then you have every right to feel guilty. Otherwise- you have to let it go."

"Will you come to the funeral with me?"

"Of course I will."

She offered a small smile as she turned and left him alone in the station once more to actually contemplate what she had told him. And no matter how he looked at it, there just wasn't a single thing he could think of that he would have done differently. Though the screams were still there, the fact that his friends were still there as well made it bearable.

* * *

The others weren't far from where he was standing. He doubted that they even knew he was there, waiting at least a few feet behind everyone else. His fingers twiddling the bottom of his tie as he tried to focus on the words being spoken. Nick couldn't stop himself from jumping when he felt the hand on his shoulder.

"I, uh, I'm sorry."

Nick turned to regard the woman beside him, "It's ok, Evelyn… no, uh, no big deal."

"I can't believe this is actually happening, I guess I just didn't want to believe that it was actually real. W-why are you all the way back here?"

"I don't belong up there. He never should have died… and- and I guess… it just feels like it was my fault. And, well, I guess it just feels like I'm insulting him by being here."

Evelyn nodded in understanding, and gently rubbed his shoulder, subconsciously wondering if it actually provided any comfort. When it garnered her a weak smile she figured the physical contact may have helped at least a bit. "You know, you have every right to be here, and I hope you understand that you'd be honoring him."

Nick let out a soft sigh before he nodded a bit in response. Their eyes met, and seeing the sincerity in her eyes let the possibility that she could be completely right sink in.

"Listen, maybe now isn't the time or place, but… well, I'd really like it if we could have dinner, or, uh, whatever, sometime."

"I think I like the sound of that."

She smiled a bit more, "So, it's a date then. I, uh, it looks like they're…"

"About to give the eulogy, you should go sit down. I think I'm gonna stay here."

Evelyn nodded briefly, and squeezed his shoulder lightly before moving forward to join everyone else. The words of the minister were gentle and caring, only filling with contempt when he spoke of the injustice of it all. Hardly anything of what was being said actually registered in his mind; all he could do was stare somberly at the young couple in the front row.

Nick bit his lip as he watched them, struggling to maintain his control. They were young, and he doubted they had ever suspected that anyone could hurt that much. It was a pain he didn't even want to imagine.

The service didn't last much longer. Before he even allowed the fact that no one was speaking, and the only sounds he could hear were peoples' quiet sobs, and the distant rumbling of various engines. Warrick offered him a sad smile, and a quick, gentle pat on the shoulder before moving on, Catherine doing likewise, though she offered the best smile she could muster, and Lindsey gave him a gentle hug before whispering, "I wish you had gotten the chance to help him like you helped me."

The confidence in her voice wasn't lost to him, but it still came as a surprise. He looked back at the constantly shrinking crowd, as people said goodbye to a child that never deserved to be die.

Evelyn was the next to pass him, and she offered him another hug, careful not to cause any pain. "You're an amazing person, Nick. But there _are_ some people you just can't save. But you gave them what they needed most right now- you made sure that the people responsible for his d-death paid for it. And I know that Billy would be grateful for that." She offered another small smile before giving him another gentle hug and making her way down the path after several others.

* * *

It was another few hours before he realized that the young couple were making their way towards him. He watched with tears in his eyes as they said their 'final' goodbyes, though he knew that they'd never be able to actually saw goodbye.

Nick waited in silence until they were only a few feet away before he finally spoke, "I'm so sorry for your loss."

"You're Mr. Stokes, aren't you?" Billy's mother answered quietly, "He… he told us about you, he was one of the extras in the play. All he ever wanted was to be a hero…"

"He was. Thanks to him… there are some terrible people who won't be seeing the light of day ever again. I hope you're proud of him."

"We always have been." Came the gentle reply before an older man came up to them and guided her off towards the car waiting for them.

"You're the first person to actually tell us something about what happened. I mean, they told us how he died… and- all… that, b-but they made it sound like he didn't even matter in what happened…" The young man answered. "And thank you for that. Also- it means the world to us that the bastards that did that paid for it."

Nick looked down, and felt the firm grasp on his shoulder. Just as quickly it was gone, and when he looked back up the man was already hurrying down the walkway to just in time to take hold of his wife's shoulders and give her a gentle hug before helping her into the car.

* * *

Once they had left he forced his sore legs to carry his unsteady body to the grave. His fingers traced over the top of the smooth marble. A few more tears fell before he felt a familiar grip on his shoulder.

Nick turned around to face Warrick, and he couldn't keep himself from pulling his best friend into a hug. Guilt was something he was willing to let go of, at least for the moment, if it meant that he could actually accept that things were going to turn out alright. Even if it had been present, the look in Warrick's eyes would have made it nearly impossible.

Knowing that his friends would go so far as to risk their very lives for him, was enough to let him feel more confident that they'd understand that he had done his best.

_They probably believe it more than I do._

"Come on- let's get you home."

"Hey Warrick…" Nick paused, unsure of just how he should say what he was feeling. After a few moments of silence he finally settled on, "Thanks, man…"

There was no need to say that he was thanking Warrick for far more than he could possibly express in words. It simply wasn't necessary to tell him how grateful he was that Warrick didn't blame him, how much it meant to him to know, that even after everything that had happened, it wasn't going to destroy their friendship. They both knew the feelings that were there, and it was enough for both men.

Sometimes things were just as well off without being spoken.

* * *

They walked in silence to his truck, and Catherine's presence didn't surprise either of them when they finally reached their destination. She moved towards Nick, and pulled him into a close embrace, "You're not in this alone anymore. Don't you dare hesitate to call if you need anything and I mean _anything_- and get some sleep. Warrick is going to be staying with you for a while, so don't even waste your breath arguing over it. Besides, it'll give you the chance to watch out for him a little bit yourself. Now get out of here- I'll see you tomorrow night."

She finally let him go, and quickly kissed his cheek before moving on to Warrick. She pulled him close as well, though with a bit more force than she had with Nick. "Same goes for you. If I find out that there was something either of you needed- and you _didn't_ call… it isn't gonna be pleasant. And, Warrick, you don't always have to be Mr. Tough Guy. You take it easy too, I better not be hearing any stories about the two of you competing to find out who has the bigger ego and more testosterone, got it?"

"Yeah I got it. But if we gotta rest… well- then so do you."

Catherine smiled and pulled away, "It's a deal."

Nick had already managed to get himself into his truck by the time Catherine had said her last goodbye of the day to Warrick, and she watched as he climbed in and they drove off down the road. She waited a few more moments until she made her way to her own SUV and climbed in.

Catherine quickly leaned over and gave Lindsey a quick hug and kiss before turning the key in the ignition and following the same path that she had just watched Warrick and Nick take.

* * *

The bottle in his hand was light, and he only hesitated a moment before placing two of the pills into his hand. Nick glanced up at the mirror, his reflection greeting him. He couldn't help but think that he could see a bit more light in his eyes, though his mind immediately told himself that he was being childish, that it was far too cheesy, and unreal. But the thought lingered for a moment, and it brought a small smile to his face; it was a dream.

Perhaps not much of one, but still- it was there.

Without another thought he quickly swallowed the pills and made his way to his bed, his eyes already drooping by the time he managed to crawl under the covers. He thought about Evelyn's offer, and decided he'd call her after his shift. The distant sound of Warrick snoring from the guest room was welcomed, even if it was enough to keep most people awake. At the moment it was just a reminder that he still had friends.

* * *

His shoes clicked on the shimmering tiles. Eyes automatically following the trail of lights reflected on the floor as he moved through the halls. There was the vaguely familiar sound of blaring music coming from several labs, and he couldn't help but smile as he watched Grissom head into each one, turning them off, as Greg snuck back into each lab and turned them back on before racing out of the room before their supervisor could turn to see him.

Nick let out a quiet chuckle as he entered the locker room, where Warrick was already getting ready along with Catherine and Sara. They exchanged a few quick greetings before heading to the break room to wait for Grissom to give up on trying to fight Greg's music and give them their assignments.

It didn't take long for the chatter to pick up a bit, there conversation inane, yet still meaningful. It wasn't normal, and it wasn't back to being completely right. But, Nick knew that it would have been unfair to expect that much so soon, at the moment he decided that he was more than content with the hope that someday it could be.

His eyes wandered across the various people both in the room and in the halls and labs beyond, and he almost felt stupid for having ever felt alone. They were a family, and each of them was loved by the others. It was unconditional love, the same love that was essential in holding a family together. When he heard Grissom finally call out Greg's name he couldn't help but smile.

It felt like he was finally home, where he belonged, where he was supposed to be. There wasn't a thunderous applause, there wasn't a grand finale. Everything wasn't alright, but it was getting there.

All they could do was take it one day at a time.

* * *

**The End

* * *

**

Notes: I'm really sorry it took so long to get the last two chapters out. Not having a computer for a few weeks was bad enough, and then it was pretty hard actually getting this chapter written out, even with an outline. Anyhow- I hope this was worth the wait, and that everyone enjoyed this story as much as they did 'Crimson Puddles'. And thanks to everyone who reviewed, they really meant a lot.

* * *


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